The One-Seven
by lildrummerboi
Summary: A devastating attack in Metropolis leaves promising young detective Percy Jackson in desperate need for a fresh start. A new city and a new case might be exactly what he needs to get his mind back on track. Or at least that was how he had been imagining things. Why the hell did he choose to transfer to Gotham again?
1. Welcome to Gotham

Gordon grunted as he turned up the lapels of his jacket against the rain. Shielding his pipe in the innards of his coat, he struck a match and lit the tobacco inside. He took a look pull, savoring the sweet taste in his mouth for a moment, before letting out a slow exhale. He watched from the cover of his umbrella as the rain cut through the smoke. Checking his watch again, he sighed. The man he was waiting for honestly had no sense of decorum. He had lit the signal ten minutes ago; he could have been halfway home by now.

"Jim," came a low growl from behind him, in his earlier years, the commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department would have jumped in surprise, maybe would have dropped his pipe and reached for his weapon. But after nearly a decade-long partnership, he was more than used to his strange acquaintance's…quirks.

Turning around, Gordon looked at the Batman. He was tall, standing at around six feet and two inches tall. His already impressive frame only enhanced by the powerful looking body armor the vigilante wore.

He didn't say anything, the Batman was never one for small talk or preamble. He was patient enough to wait for Jim to tell him why he was summoned. Instead of speaking, Jim simply reached into his jacket and withdrew a file, without a word he passed it to the man, who took it, the rain bouncing off the laminate casing around the pages. The vigilante took the file, and briefly skimmed over the contents. After a few moments of silence, the file was passed back to Jim.

The silence stretched on for a few moments before Jim grew impatient, "So?" he asked, "What do you think?"

"If you're asking if he's clean, then the answer is yes." the man said,

Jim rolled his eyes, "Of course you already ran your own background check." He took another puff from his pipe, adjusting his umbrella to keep the change of wind from redirecting the rain from pelting him in the face, "Don't know why I don't just have you conduct the interviews." he grumbled,

Batman's eyes narrowed beneath his cowl, but he wasn't the one to answer,

"Perseus Jackson. 26. Graduated from Goode High School in Queens New York in spite of a troubled childhood. Had a run in with the FBI when he was a kid for kidnapping, murder, and destruction of national property but he was exonerated. After graduation he joined the Navy, did four tours before he was honorably discharged following a bad operation in Markovia. Graduated Suma Cum Laude from NYU for criminal justice before he joined the Metropolis Police Department. Rose through the ranks quickly, became the youngest detective in department history. Had the best case closure percentage of all active detectives." The voice came from the other side of Gordon, turning around, Gordon saw the other half of the "Dynamic Duo."

He was young, far too young to be in the line of work that he was; couldn't have been more than thirteen. Dressed in a red and yellow armored body suit, his dark black hair matted down in the rain, the vigilante Robin was looking at a holographic file that was being projected on the gauntlet on the boy's arm.

The boy whistled appreciatively, glancing up, the boy looked passed Gordon and at his mentor, "Guy's good," he said, before he went back to typing on his gauntlet. "Looks like he's got a good career going, why's he transferring?"

Gordon looked at the young man with a frown, he vehemently disagreed with the young man's even being there but he knew better than to try and argue it. "He was there for the attack. His partner, Roger Davis, and his entire family were killed. From what Commissioner Corporon told me, Jackson was close to the family. Was devastated by their deaths. Needed a new lease and Corporon recommended I give it.

"I already talked to Superman. He had nothing but good things to say. He's clean." Batman said, choosing to ignore his partner's interjection.

Gordon snorted, "They all start that way." he said cynically.

"Where are you placing him?"

"The One-Seven."

That actually seemed to surprise Jim's companion, and Jim tried to keep a smirk of satisfaction of his face. It wasn't every day that he managed to catch "the world's greatest detective" off-guard.

"That entire precinct is dirty," the man said,

"For the most part," Gordon nodded, "I'm sick of bringing in new blood, only to have it tainted immediately. If he's going to go on the take, I want to know about it quickly so we can take care of it before it becomes a problem."

"That's cynical," Robin snarked, still not looking up from his gauntlet. Jim tried not to roll his eyes, superhero or not, kids were the same everywhere. Massively engrossed in whatever screen was in front of them.

"Maybe," Batman said, "But it's a good call." Looking back at Gordon he said, "Who're you partnering him with?"

"Montoya," he said,

"She's transferring," it wasn't a question but a statement. Gordon nodded, "Already transferred. After that business with Allen she needed a change of scenery. Between her and Jackson, I'm hoping they can turn around the One-Seven before things get any worse."

"What did the investigation into Wise and Cavallo turn up?"

"Nothing so far, but I wouldn't be surprised if the rats in IAB are on Falcone's payroll too. If Jackson is as good as I've been led to believe, he and Montoya should be able to get enough together to put the entire precinct down for good."

Batman hummed in thought, "You going to bring him in immediately?"

Gordon shook his head, "No, I'm going to sit on it. Montoya knows, but she's under order's not bring him into the fold until she's sure he's clean."

"That sounds like it'll take a while," Robin chipped in, "Wouldn't it be easier for us to take care of this for you?" Gordon actually growled at that, but it was Batman who answered for him,

"No." he said simply, his gaze not leaving Gordon, "This needs to be done the right way, if we're the ones busting bad cops then both Jim and the entire force lose what little credibility they have left." Gordon nodded his head at that,

Robin just scoffed but didn't say anything further,

"When does he start?" Batman asked,

Gordon shrugged, taking another long pull from his pipe, "Supposedly tomorrow," He then turned and looked out at the city, the sound of sirens echoing in the distance, "But this is Gotham. So probably tonight."

BREAK

The phone on the night stand rang. Blearily, Percy swiped his arm over and snatched it. He didn't recognize the number so he contemplated just shutting the damn thing off and going back to sleep. Sighing, he fought the impulse and brought the phone to his ear. "Jackson" he said. His voice low and husky with sleep.

"Detective Percy Jackson?" the voice on the other end asked, it was feminine with a decidedly hard edge to it.

Sitting up, Percy tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes, "Speaking." he grunted, "Who is this?"

"Sorry for waking you up Detective but this is Stacey Alvarez with the Gotham City Police Department. I know you don't officially start until tomorrow, or rather later today, but unfortunately something has come up. You need to report to the corner of Snyder and Miller, there's been a reported homicide and you've been assigned."

As the woman was speaking, Percy was already getting out of the bed, moving quietly to try and avoid further disturbing the other person in the bed. Pulling on his pants he searched around for where his shirt had landed.

"You're being partnered with Renee Montoya, she's already on the scene and forensics is collecting evidence."

"Thanks Stacy." He said softly into the receiver.

"You're welcome detective, and welcome to Gotham." With that, the line went dead. Putting the phone in his pocket, he reached under the bed and grabbed his shirt, badge, and holster for his sidearm.

"Work?" Came a groggy voice from the bed. Turning he looked at the woman under laying naked under the covers. He dark auburn hair curtaining her face as the moon illuminated her alabaster skin.

"Unfortunately. Guess they couldn't wait until I was even an official member of the force." he replied. "Sorry that I woke you up."

"It's ok, you're not the first cop I've slept with, and I'm a bit of a light sleeper." The woman sat up a little, the covers falling from around her and Percy had to force himself to stay on task. "Don't suppose I could convince you to hang around for a few minutes before you go?" she asked, all traces of drowsiness leaving her at the suggestive nature of her question. Percy chuckled and he leaned back towards her, cupping her cheek and placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

"We both know that if I stay around for anything else, it'll take more than a few minutes." the woman smiled and leaned into his touch a bit.

"Can't blame a girl for trying." she laid back down and snuggled into the bed. And Percy felt an inexplicable need to explain himself a little,

"Just so you know, I'm not the type of guy to normally run out in the middle of the night."

She laughed, "I know Percy. If I thought you were an asshole, I would have left you at the bar." She paused, looking thoughtful, "I don't want to give you the wrong impression though, this was probably only a one-time thing."

Percy smiled at her as he stood up from the bed and threw on his jacket, "I know Vesper, you said as much last night. Don't worry I'm not exactly ready for anything long term myself. Besides, who am I to come in between Gotham and her next greatest radio host?" He joked and smiled again as she laughed. He paused at the door, unsure exactly what to say, "You have a spare key I can use to lock up after I leave?" He asked.

She nodded, "Under the plant in the hallway. Night Percy, stay safe and I'll see you around." with that, she rolled over, and went off back to sleep. Leaving the bedroom, he paused in the kitchen of Vesper's apartment. Taking a piece of paper, he wrote down his name and number with a message that if she wanted company again to give him a call. While he was honest about not looking for any long-term commitments at the moment, he was certainly not going to say no to another night with the red-haired vixen.

He found the spare key, locked her door behind him and left the apartment. Arriving at the parking garage he opened the door to his restored, blue, 1969 Mustang and, after punching his destination into the GPS on his phone, he took off. He didn't need to look too hard for the crime scene. The area was fluorescent with the red and blue lights of patrol cars. Pulling up along the curb he stepped out of the car and approached the yellow crime scene tape in front of the alley just off the street. There was a pair of patrolmen stationed in front of the tape warding off any curious late-night onlookers, of which there were not many. Crime scenes were too common an occurrence in Gotham to warrant the sort of casual attraction Percy had seen in Metropolis.

The patrolmen watched Percy approach, their hands resting firmly on the holsters for their weapons as they scanned him. Good boys, Percy thought, in a city like this one, there was no such thing as too careful.

Reaching under his shirt slowly as he approached, he withdrew his identification and displayed it to the more senior looking of the two officers. "I'm Detective Percy Jackson, just transferred in from Metropolis, I've been assigned to the case." The officer Percy had approached scanned the i.d. and then Percy before sharing a look with his companion.

"One second while I grab Detective Montoya." he said before disappearing into the alleyway. Percy wanted to sigh but couldn't exactly blame the man. He was just being thorough, something he could respect. A minute later the officer reappeared with a woman at his heels. She was tall and dark skinned with black hair and dark brown eyes. Percy felt immediately underdressed as he took in her smart business suit and face mask. She lowered the mask from her face before she nodded at the officer closest to Percy, who lifted the tape to let Percy through. He nodded a thanks to the man before he addressed his new partner. He held her gaze as he extended his hand, which she grabbed in a very firm handshake, almost as though she was trying to crush his hand.

"Detective Montoya? I'm Percy Jackson, nice to work with ya." he said. He kept his voice firm and professional. While he enjoyed cracking the occasional wise ass remark he could tell from a glance that this woman was hard edged and all business. In the boy's club that was law enforcement it wasn't a surprise. It still meant that until he was more comfortable with her, and she him, he would keep things serious and professional. He could tell she liked and respected that in a partner.

"It's a pleasure Jackson," She said, and gods even her voice had an edge of iron to it. She released his hand and handed him multiple pairs of gloves and booties. Percy immediately slipped the booties on over his shoes, but waited to put the gloves on. "We can get to know each other later, right now we've got a grisly one." Montoya said, her face grimacing slightly as she handed him his own mask

"That bad?" he asked, and she just nodded. Percy took a deep breath to steel himself and he put the mask on over his mouth and nose. His partner turned back to the alley and led the pair to the scene.

"Forensics just finished up a few minutes ago. Evidence is already on its way to processing." she started without preamble. "No i.d. on the vic as of yet, I have someone running her picture against missing persons but I'll be honest, I'm not incredibly hopeful that we'll catch anything on that yet. She was shot three times. Twice in the back, and once more, right between the eyes. Hard to say without the weapon but judging by the size and shape of the bullet wounds, we are likely dealing with small caliber."

"No sign of the weapon I'm guessing?" Percy asked,

"Of course not, that would make this easy." Montoya snarked, "I've got patrols canvassing the area, checking gutters and garbage to see if it was ditched somewhere but no luck so far. Anyways, the M.E. reported bruising along the ribs, and what is likely cerebral hemorrhaging. That being said, it looks like our girl tried to fight back a bit. The alley is pretty thoroughly trashed. Her knuckles are bruised pretty bad too so hopefully we can pull something off of her that will lead us to something here."

He was saved from a reply by their arrival on the scene. It was ugly. The girl was on the younger side of fourteen, and looked like she had been beaten with a pipe. Her left eye was completely swollen shut, and her right eye was open, but bloodshot. Her nose was twisted and broken and a trail of dried blood leaked out of one nostril staining her dress shirt. However, what really drew his attention was the lack of any obvious exit wounds in the woman's chest. It suggested a smaller caliber weapon, likely a .22 or .9.

Percy bit back bile and tried his best not lose his composure. It wasn't the first time he had seen something like this and it certainly wouldn't be his last. That didn't stop anger and disgust that welled up inside of him, the tempest of emotions trying to come loose. No matter the scene, things were always worse when kids were involved. Taking another deep breath, he collected himself and began looking back at the girl, this time focusing on what she was wearing, "Looks like a school uniform," he said, more to himself than to Montoya, but she still hummed in agreement,

"I was thinking the same thing,"

"Know any nearby schools with a dress code?" Percy asked, turning to look at his partner.

She shrugged, "Gotham Academy, think she's a student?"

"Wouldn't hurt to see how many of their freshmen are missing tomorrow morning."

Montoya agreed before moving on and discussing something with a couple of patrolmen. Standing up, Percy took a walk over to a series of garbage cans that were strewn across the backside of the ally, their contents spilled and the bags inside having burst adding to the mess and misery of the scene.

One of the bins was dented rather badly on one side, the flag marking the bin as evidence told him that forensics also thought that something useful might be pulled from there. Next, he looked at the discarded trash itself. While Percy had only been a detective for two years, he had been partnered with a man in Metropolis who had been working homicide since before Superman had even existed. As such, the man had a wealth of knowledge that he had tried to pass on to Percy before he tragically passed away in the incident a few months ago. One such nugget of wisdom was to always have multiple eyes, look over multiple parts of the scene multiple times. You never knew what someone might notice out of the corner of their eye.

Which was why after his first pass over the discarded trash refuse, he looked away for a moment, letting his eyes focus on something else, before going over the area again. A moment later, he was glad that he did. On the ground, among the milk cartons and pizza boxes, was a small bracelet. The bracelet was corded silver with intricate golden inlays and a small emerald jewel hanging onto the side. From the angle at which the bracelet was sitting, he couldn't make out what the jewel was depicting. He called out to his new partner, "Hey Montoya, does one of our girl's wrists have a small tan line on it, something that could have been caused by a small bracelet or something?" He didn't take his eyes off of the bracelet, he was paranoid he would lose it if he looked away, so he heard more than saw Montoya move over to check on the girl's wrists.

"Her right wrist has a small tan line, definitely something that could have come from wearing a bracelet. You got something over there?"

"Yeah, someone bring a camera over." Not a moment later, there was an officer with a camera in her hands at Percy's side. Percy pointed out the small bracelet, and had the officer photograph the bracelet from several different angles. When she was done, Percy took off his old gloves before putting a new layer over top. He didn't want to contaminate any potential evidence from his fingers when he had touched the wall, with the anything that was potentially on the bracelet. Something like this could be something, or could be nothing. It was impossible to tell this early into an investigation. Picking up the bracelet he examined it more carefully, the jewelry was not what he was expecting. It was like a runic circle or a pentagram, but in the center was a humanoid figure. He had the officer with the camera take a few more photos, this time focusing on the jewel, then Percy put the item in an evidence bag, sealed the bag, and handed it off to a nearby officer to send to the lab for analysis.

Pulling his gloves off again, Percy rubbed at the stubble on his face, Montoya walked over, "What did you find?" she asked,

"A small bracelet bracelet; could be something or it could be nothing. But it was made of gold, silver and emerald. I'm no jeweler but that piece alone couldn't have come cheap." She nodded, and Percy continued, "You were right earlier, it definitely looks like she put up a fight. The dent in that garbage bin over there is way too big to belong to her. You have the guys run a luminal test yet? Or are they waiting till we leave?"

"They wanted to wait for you to have a pass over the area before they started spraying." She said, "Think they're going to find anything?"

Percy shrugged, "Hard to say, but the guy was sloppy, probably wasn't expecting her to fight back like she did. I'm willing to bet they can pull something off of the walls that we just can't see." he then looked back at the garbage, and then out passed the alley and across the street. There were several large apartment buildings directly across the street from the alley, better yet, several of the apartments with windows facing the alley had lights on. "I'm also willing to bet that whatever happened here, caused a hell of a lot of noise. Someone was likely to at least hear something if not outright seen it. I say we head out, canvas a couple of these apartment buildings and see what we can-you're shaking your head, why are you shaking your head no?"

The look she gave him was almost pitying, "Don't take this the wrong way Jackson, you seem like you got a grasp on your shit, but you gotta remember you're not in Metropolis anymore. When people in Gotham hear shit start to go down, they don't call 9-1-1. They don't report it. They close their blinds and turn up their TV. Even if someone saw something, they sure as hell won't be about to say anything." She took a breath as she collected her thoughts and as she tried figure out how to explain this to Percy, "Look, before The Bat showed up, this was a mob town. People who talked, hell if they even looked at cops, found themselves on a one-way trip to the morgue."

Percy supposed he could understand that, he was from New York after all, and you heard things, but still… "But hasn't The Bat been around for a while now? Hell, he's even running around with a kid these days. Surely people don't feel that threatened anymore."

She shrugged, "Yes and no, you gotta understand Jackson, I grew up here, I understand how Gotham thinks, and it's hard to break literal decades of forced obliviousness."

Percy thought about it for a minute. He understood what she was saying, and part of him had to concede that she raised good points. "Alright, look, I get what you're saying. And this is your city, like you said you grew up here. But I still don't see the harm in at least having a couple officers canvas a little, at least with a picture going door to door in the morning. Maybe someone is feeling a little more cooperative?"

Montoya just shrugged. She liked that the new guy was deferring to her here and she also liked that he was taking this so seriously. The Commissioner had told her that her new partner had a hell of a conviction record. More importantly, he had told her that Percy Jackson was very thorough. She liked that in a partner. She felt pretty positive that it wasn't going to lead anywhere but she had to concede that it wouldn't hurt anything and so she told him as much.

Percy was about to respond but before he could a uniformed officer jogged up to them, "Sorry to interrupt detectives, but I got a lady here who says she was the one to call it in."

Percy shot Montoya a cheeky grin, to which his new partner responded with an eye roll before they followed the officer. Before they approached the woman at the opening to the alley, Percy consciously slowed his pace, allowing his partner to be the first on approach. He fully intended to allow her to take the lead on this case. Something that was not missed by Montoya. So far, her new partner was proving himself to be more than competent.

The woman was older, in early thirties, with streaky blonde hair that was curled up in a messy bun on her head. She was wearing a heavy coat to protect her from the autumn wind and sporadic rainfall, but her legs were covered by thin, blue, hospital scrubs. The older looking officer with her introduced the woman to the detectives.

"Detectives," the older man said gesturing to the woman, "This is Miss Hanson, she says she might have seen something."

"Good evening, Miss Hanson," said Montoya politely, before indicating herself and Percy, "I'm detective Montoya, and this is detective Jackson. Why don't you tell us about what you saw?"

The woman shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of the two detectives but she gathered her courage and recounted what she saw, "I had just gotten home, I'm an ER nurse at Gotham General, and I got held up assisting with a four car pileup on '37 so I got home later than usual." she took a shaky breath, her gaze flitting down the alleyway, "I was getting ready to make a quick dinner when I heard yelling from outside. I-I just figured it was some kids arguing, you know? Didn't really think anything of it. But then the shouting got louder and then the screaming started."

She took another breath, closing her eyes as though trying to wipe what she had seen from her memory, "I got worried so I decided to take a look," she pointed up at a series of windows overlooking the alley, "I live in that apartment on the corner, sits right over the alley. I watched a-as this guy was beating this girl." She was shaking, tugging the sides of her jacket closer to her, "She tried fighting back, she got him good a few times too. Kicked him in balls before she managed to push him into those some garbage cans. She tried to run but the guy h-he was just too quick. I saw him pull a gun and he just-just…he sh-shot her. Two times in the back. She-she fell, and then she started bleeding, and he just walked over and he-he…" she couldn't finish as she started crying.

While Percy was sympathetic to the woman, watching someone get executed was among one of the most horrific things someone could witness, but they needed more information from her. Montoya was of the same mind.

"Ma'am," she said gently, "I understand this is difficult, but we need to know. Did you get a good look at the man who did this?" Percy knew the answer before she even said anything. The alley was dark, the only light right then was coming from the myriad of lights that had been set up by the crime scene analysts. Prior to that, Percy figured the only light in the alley would have been coming from the full moon, and whatever was sneaking in from street lights.

Miss Hanson shook her head, "No, it was too dark." she said, "But um, he was tallish, maybe around six feet. Kind of scrawny, he was wearing a dark coat and um a sweatshirt underneath and he had the hood up, so I couldn't see his face."

Percy had been expecting as much, it would have been far too much to ask for them to have caught a break like that, "What did he do after he killed her?" Percy asked as gently as he could,

The woman turned her attention to him, "He, um, he started to search her. Was going through her pockets or something, maybe he was looking for a wallet or something, I don't know but he didn't find anything I don't think because he got really mad and just started kicking her." And a new wave of tears began flowing down the woman's cheeks, "Who does something like that. To a little girl?" she asked hopelessly, closing in on herself.

Percy shared a look with Montoya; they wouldn't be getting anything else out of her tonight. Montoya reached into a coat pocket and withdrew a card, handing it to the woman she said, "Thank you very much Miss Hanson, you've been very helpful. If you think of anything else, please, give me a call." The woman just gave a shaky nod before accepting the card. Percy gave the patrol officer a subtle gesture and the man nodded before gently grabbing Miss Hanson by the arm and guiding her away.

Sticking his hands into his pockets, Percy frowned in thought. Something about all of this just wasn't sitting right with him.

"You feel it too huh?" Montoya was asking, shaking out of his reverie, Percy looked at the other woman. She wasn't looking at him, instead she was watching the retreating figure of Miss Hanson. Feeling his gaze on her, she said, "This isn't just a simple mugging gone wrong."

Percy grunted in agreement, "I was thinking the same thing. Who tries to mug a fourteen-year old?" Percy shook his, no it sounds to me like he was looking for something." Sighing, Percy checked his watch, quarter after three in the morning. He groaned, "It's going to be one of those days, I can already feel it."

Montoya just hummed in agreement, before checking her own watch. "We won't be getting anything else done right now." She said, as she began walking out of the alley towards the squad cars. "Let's call it and regroup in the morning, hopefully by then the labs will have something for us."

Percy jogged after her, "Sounds good to me. I've been meaning to ask by the way," he said gesturing back to the crime scene as they passed a group of forensics cops in full hazmat gear as they walked into the alleyway, "Why are we taking this? We're major crimes, right? Not to downplay the death of a kid but shouldn't this be Homicides collar?" he asked,

Montoya chuckled darkly as they got to their individual vehicles. "This is Gotham, Metropolis." She said, and Percy groaned at the nickname, "We don't have the manpower to avoid splitting hairs." She got into her car, before turning the engine over and reversing away from the curb. Just before she pulled away, she rolled her window down and said,

"Welcome to the One-Seven detective. You're going to hate it here."

_**AN: **_**Alright so after the positive feedback I got in the reviews for Protector, I decided to go ahead and post the first chapter of this. I've been on a crime novel binge recently and just couldn't get the idea out of my head, it plays with a one-shot I wrote forever ago and tweaked it a lot, fleshed out the plot a fair bit overhauled a lot of the issues I had with the original piece. This is going to be a severely different Percy to what most of you have seen. Not totally unique for my stories but this one even more so. Like most of my work, you won't know much about Percy from the get go, instead you're going to learn about as other characters get close and learn about him. I don't know if this is going to evolve into anything substantial yet, but I'll go ahead and post the chapters I've written over the next few weeks and see if there is any love for it. Please, let me know what you think, I'm hoping that this is a unique take on an under-loved and underappreciated trope, and I hope you enjoy. **

**Love, **

**LilDB**


	2. Not So Silver Lining

It was five minutes to eight in the morning when Montoya climbed the steps into the precinct. She shifted the coffee in her hands, stacking one cup on top of the other, in order to relieve her hand from the heat of one of the cups. Idiot kid at the coffee shop had forgotten to give her a sleeve for it and she had been in too much of a rush to notice at first.

Grumbling to herself as she pushed her way into the precinct, she climbed the steps inside the building before greeting the desk sergeant, "Morning Sal," she said over a jaw-cracking yawn.

"Late start for ya Montoya?" he asked, not looking up from the paperwork on his desk,

Montoya stopped, turning to look at the man, eyebrow raised, "What does that mean?" she asked,

Sal looked up, and raised his hands in surrender as he saw the sharp look in Montoya's eyes, "Nothing!" He said quickly, "Just that I figured you'd be here sooner, your new partner has been here since six…"

Montoya looked incredulously at the man, what in the hell had Jackson been doing here since six? Ignoring the desk sergeant, she marched her way into the bullpen. Pushing open the doors, she scanned the room, her eyes quickly latching onto the back of her partner's head. He was hunched over the desk; a phone was tucked against one ear and he was listening attentively as he wrote something down on a large yellow notepad.

Before she could walk over to her new partner, her path was blocked by the aging figure of Roman Cavallo. Dressed nicely in a beige suit which accentuated the snow-white hair and mustache, Cavallo looked like he belonged on the set of a cheap procedural cop drama than in an active precinct.

"Nice of you to join us Montoya," he said, crossing his arms over his chest,

"Bite me, Cavallo," Montoya snarled and made to move past him, but the other detective grabbed hold of her arm.

"You would be so lucky," he said, with deep frown, "You need to get your rookie on the same page."

Yanking her arm free, making sure not spill the coffee, she glared at the man, "The hell does that mean?"

"It means, that this precinct has a certain way of doing things. A way that ensures that everyone stays…happy. Your new partner needs to understand that or we're going to have problems."

Montoya didn't respond, choosing instead to simply glare at the man before pushing passed him. She had only been with the One-Seven for a month, but she had quickly been initiated into how things were done in the precinct. It was why the Commissioner had placed her here in the first place. As far as she had been able to figure, both Cavallo as well as his partner Marcus Wise, were on the take. She didn't know to whom they belonged yet, but she had her suspicions. And from the way the precinct lieutenant, Davis Winston, interacted with the pair, Montoya was certain that he was in on the take as well.

She walked briskly over to the desk she shared with Jackson just as he was setting the phone down. He was putting the finishing touches on whatever he was writing when she placed the coffee down in front of him. "You're making me look bad Metropolis," she said as she perched herself at the edge, "Coming in two hours before me; man if you wanted to impress me you could have just gotten breakfast." she smirked, Percy just rolled his eyes, before accepting the coffee with a muttered thanks. Reaching into a desk drawer, he retrieved a handful of packets of sugar, before he tore them open with his teeth and proceeded to drown his coffee in sugar. He took a long, satisfied pull of the drink before he set it down on his desk and swiveled his chair around to look at his partner.

"Couldn't sleep." he said simply, "Got too wired up, so I went to the gym, made some breakfast, banged my head against the wall, and by the time all of that was done it was only five-thirty. I said screw it and came in; figured if I was going to be up, I might as well be doing something productive."

Montoya just nodded; she had been in similar situations herself. Nothing like a two am wake up call to get the day going.

"You find anything?" she asked, taking a sip from her coffee. Percy nodded, reaching over his desk to hand over a separate notepad. Looking over the notes, it was a series of names, dates, and potential guardians.

"I spent the last hour or so on the phone with every middle and high school in the city, asking if any of their students failed to report to their first periods." he said, then pointed to the paper, "comparing that with the number of schools that require a dress code and I had only one hit." Reaching across the table, he handed Montoya a photo, it was a photo of the same dead girl in the alleyway, except she was dressed in an expensive ball gown, with an array of expensive jewels hanging from her neck. "That," Percy said as he took another pull from his coffee, "Is Silver St. Cloud. He parents are some hot shot art dealers who own most of the galleries in Gotham. I made some calls but apparently they're out of the city, and I haven't been able to reach them."

"Jesus Christ," Montoya muttered as she stared at the picture. Looking back at her partner she said, "You know this is about to become a shit-storm of utterly epic proportions, right?"

Percy just nodded, "I figured as much. Thankfully, we're still ahead of it. I was thinking, since we can't get ahold of the parents, we might want to head on down to Gotham Academy, speak with some of her friends and teachers. They might be able to shed some light on what she was doing by herself in that alley."

Montoya nodded; her new partner was shaping up to be better than she had been hoping for. When she found out that her new partner was coming in from Metropolis, she had been expecting an ambulance chaser. It was common enough for former MPD detectives. They got sick of having Superman steal all of the glory for himself, and moved to Gotham where they thought they had a better chance of stealing some spotlight for themselves.

But Percy was steadily proving her wrong. He was competent, self-assured, and was willing to take the initiative. All good traits in a good cop. Better still, he was letting her call the shots, letting her take point and have the final call on all of their decisions. It stroked her ego sure, but more importantly it pointed to the fact that Percy was a team player, not a glory hound.

"What are we waiting for," she said, as she stood up, "I'll drive,"

BREAK

Stepping out of the car, Montoya couldn't help but smirk a little at Percy's appreciative whistle, "The lifestyle of the rich and famous, you should feel right at home Metro." Percy just snorted derisively,

"Believe it or not" or he said, side-eyeing her, "Not everyone in Metropolis lives in a five-star penthouse. I had to rent an apartment an hour out of the city just to afford living there."

Montoya stopped just short of the gates to the academy, "You're shitting me." she said,

"Nope" her partner said, "Between property value and cape insurance-"

"Cape insurance?" she asked,

"Insurance for when the big guy destroys half the city fighting a giant robot or…something else. City ordinance dictates that you have to take out an insane insurance policy, you know, just in case. Anyways, for the landlords that means that they charge triple what even the smallest apartments here are worth just to make up the cost."

"Jesus…" Montoya muttered as the two flashed their badges to the security guard at the gate and they were brought inside the grounds, "Starting to see why you left."

Percy just chuckled, "Would be lying if I said it wasn't part of it," he admitted, "I can afford an apartment with more than double the floor space of my last place and still not be paying half of what I did in Metropolis."

"Guess the grass isn't always greener huh?" she asked him, and Percy just shrugged.

They made their way through the quad, abandoned at the moment because it was the middle of third period. They were greeted at the front doors and were invited through a maze of intricate hallways ordained with ornate pictures and ostentatious decorations commemorating the long history of the school. After about a five-minute walk they were deposited in lush, comfortable office of Headmistress Lorenz. She was a tall woman, standing at nearly six-feet even without her heels and had the harsh features of a woman with many dedicated years of educating behind her.

"Detectives," she greeted politely enough, "Please, have a seat," she said, gesturing to the two open chairs in front of her desk. Montoya and Percy both sat down, "Now," she said as she steepled her hands in front of herself, "What can I help you with."

Montoya reached into her coat pocket and withdrew her legal pad. "Ma'am is there a Silver St. Cloud, currently enrolled in this school?" she asked as she looked over her partner's notes.

"Yes, one of our star pupils. Last year She won the Martha Wayne Award of Academic Excellence as well as Miranda Cobblepot's Philanthropic Achievement Honors. She is an excellent student; I assure you if she is in any trouble then there must be some kind of mistake."

Montoya and Percy shared a look before Percy took the lead, "She's not in any kind of trouble ma'am." He said, and Montoya was impressed by his calm yet smooth delivery. Must not have been the first time he'd had to deliver this kind of news. She watched as he reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a photograph. Before sliding it over he said, "I apologize in advance ma'am because this is rather…graphic, however we need you to identify the person in this photo." he then flipped the photo over and slid it towards the Headmistress. Her puzzled expression quickly morphed into muted horror.

Gasping in shock and revulsion, she threw the photo back at Percy, turning away and covering her mouth with her hand. Percy reached over and snatched the photo back, tucking it into his pocket. They let the headmistress recompose for a few moments before Percy asked, "I'm very sorry ma'am but I have to ask, is that Miss St. Cloud in the photo." The woman clearly didn't have it in her to respond verbally yet, so she just nodded her head.

Lorenz was shaking her head, as though she were trying to scare away a particularly persistent mosquito, "I can't believe this, just the other day she was here, happy and a-alive." She looked up sharply at the pair of detectives, "Do the parents know yet?" she asked,

Percy shook his head, "I tried to get a hold of them this morning but just kept getting the ring around. According to the butler I spoke to, they're out of the country."

The headmistress nodded to herself, "I suppose that makes sense," she mused softly, "I believe they were opening a gallery in Brussels, and wanted to be there Grand Opening."

Percy and Montoya shared a look before Montoya asked, "We would like to speak with some of her friends, were there any students here that she was particularly close to?"

Lorenz took a deep breath, and tried to steady herself, "I honestly don't know." She said, sounding defeated, as though all of the air had been knocked out of her lungs at once. "I supervise over five-hundred students, hang on a second." she moved over to her computer and began typing some commands into the keyboard. After a moment of typing she looked back up at the detectives, "Her homeroom teacher was Miss Rushman, she's in the middle of a lesson right now but they should be finishing up soon. I'll have my secretary escort you."

"Thank you, ma'am." they both said, and stood up as one to leave the room,

"Detectives," Lorenz said, stopping the pair before they could leave the room, "Miss St. Cloud, was a treasure to this world. Was going to go on to do great things. And now…" Her voice wavered slightly, "Now that treasure has been stripped away." Her eyes grew fierce, and her features sharpened, "Find the bastard that this."

"We plan on it, ma'am." Montoya said, and motioned for Percy to follow her out of the room.

BREAK

They knocked at the door after their escort dropped them off, not waiting for an answer they marched into the room. Miss Rushman was on the younger side, maybe in early thirties at the latest, with bright auburn hair and piercing green eyes. She stopped mid-lecture and turned to look at the pair of detectives.

"Excuse me, I'm in the middle of a lesson, is there something I could help you with?"

"Sorry to interrupt ma'am," Percy said as he flashed his badge, "GCPD, I'm detective Jackson and this is detective Montoya, we need to ask you a few questions."

The teacher crossed her arms, standing defensively, "Well whatever it is, it can wait until after class,"

"Unfortunately, it can't," Montoya said,

"Alright kids, class dismissed, c'mon," Percy said, whistling sharply between his teeth as though her were wrangling cattle.

"Hey you can't-"

She was cut off by the scrapping of chairs and excitable chatter as the students scrambled to gather their belongings and leave. When the last student, a younger boy with jet black hair left, staring intently at Percy the entire time, Rushman spoke,

"That was hardly necessary,"

"Like my partner said ma'am, it unfortunately, is very necessary." Percy said, passing over the photo of St. Cloud to the woman. Her reaction was…peculiar, she didn't scream. Didn't gasp in shock. She didn't react in any noticeable way, she just looked at the picture; face like stone. Nearly a minute passed without a reaction, she just stared at the photograph. Finally, she just sighed and handed the picture back to Percy.

"Have you notified her parents?" she asked, showing no outward signs of distress,

Montoya raised an eyebrow, "We're working on it," she said, "But they're out of the country and haven't been receiving our calls."

Rushman nodded as though that made sense to her. "We wanted to interview her friends, see if they had noticed anything unusual leading up to her murder." said Percy,

"Barbara Gordon and Bette Kane," the teacher said without preamble. Montoya stiffened uncomfortably at that,

"Great, were they just in here? We can probably track 'em down."

Rushman shook her head, "No, they're older students. Juniors. They'll be in the upperclassmen wing. They have Mr. Richards right now I believe."

Percy's confusion showed on his features as he frowned, "I thought St. Cloud was a sophomore?" Rushman nodded at him, "Then what the hell was she doing hanging out with juniors. I don't know about the two of you, but when I was in high school, trying to speak to upperclassmen was a one-way ticket to being shoved in a locker."

Rushman looked Percy's enormous frame, up and down, quirking a brow, "There is no way you were ever shoved in a locker," she deadpanned, and Montoya snorted in agreement. "But normally, you'd be right. However, Silver was…mature for her age. Had a difficult time connecting with her peers. When she first joined us, it was affecting her studies. I made an arrangement with Miss's Gordon and Kane, they started tutoring her, soon enough the three of them were inseparable." She was interrupted by the sound of a bell ringing. "That's the lunch bell, they should be in the cafeteria." Rushman said, Montoya looked over at her partner,

"I'll stay here, talk with Miss Rushman, why don't you go pay the girls a visit?" Percy shrugged but nodded his head,

"Take a left out of the door, pass the next hall and it will be the first set of double doors on the right." Rushman supplied helpfully. Percy nodded his thanks and left out the class door. Rushman turned an amused smirk at Montoya, "He has no idea that Barbara is the Commissioner's daughter, does he?"

Montoya smirked back at the woman, pulling out a pen and her legal pad, "Nope,"

BREAK

It was only after Percy had entered the cafeteria that he realized that he'd never actually asked what the two girl's he was supposed to be interviewing looked like. Catching the eye of worker behind the counter of a food trolley, he strode over. Flashing his badge, he asked, "GCPD, looking for Barbara Gordon and Bette Kane, any idea where I can find them?" he asked. The man behind the counter just gave him an odd look before pointing at a table near the back of the room. Sitting at the table were three girls, A pair of blondes and a redhead.

Thanking the man, who gave him the strangest expression of pity Percy had ever seen, he made his way towards the lunch table. "Excuse me ladies," Percy said as he approached the table. All three girls turned to look at the new man, "I'm looking for Bette Kane and Barbara Gordon,"

"Who's asking?" asked one of the blondes, Vietnamese by the looks of her, her muscles tensing as though ready to either knife him or run away from him at the drop of a hat. Percy quirked a brow at her, those types of reactions were more common among street kids, not exactly Percy expected to see from some yuppies in an elite prep school.

"GCPD," he said easily, "Do you mind if we go somewhere else, I'd like to have a word with the two of you." he said,

"Badge and i.d. please," said the redhead, and Percy chuckled as he reached into his pocket to produce the requested identification,

"Smart girl," he said flashing his identification,

"Thanks," the redhead said, as she snatched the badge and i.d. out of his hand and looked over both of them carefully, "My dad always taught me to be thorough. After all," she looked up at him over the badge, "It's not paranoia if they're really out to get ya,"

Percy chuckled, "Sounds like a smart man, your pops. He a cop?" he asked, and Barbara smirked at him,

"Something like that, tell me though, are you new to the force, detective…" she stopped to look at his name one more time, "Jackson?" she asked, as she handed him back his badge and i.d.

Percy nodded, "Transferred in from Metropolis, today is my first day, well," he amended, "I guess technically last night was. Why?"

"No reason, just curious is all," she said, far too innocently to be believable. Percy just nodded suspiciously. "Now, to answer your question; I'm Barbara," she pointed to herself, "That's Bette," she pointed next to her to a curly haired blonde with a classical European beauty to her who waved, "And that is Artemis," she said, point at the Vietnamese girl. She just glared harder at Percy. Definitely did not have a good relationship with cops, Percy thought to himself as he looked away from the angry girl. "What can we help you with detective," Barbara asked calmly,

"Do you mind if we talk somewhere else?" he asked, but the redhead just looked hard at him. Whoever had raised this girl was bringing up a hardass, he thought.

Percy sigh and gestured to the open seat by Artemis, and Barbara looked at her friend who nodded reluctantly, flashing a winning smile at the pair of them, Percy sat down on the empty bench. He pulled out a pen and his pad, before looking around the table, "Is it alright with all of you if I write some notes down as we talk?" he asked. The girls all shrugged and Percy took that as consent enough for him.

"How long have the two of you been tutoring Silver St. Cloud?"

Bette and Barbara shared confused and concerned looks, "Since the beginning of the last year, why? Is something wrong, did something happen?"

Percy sighed, he hated this part of the job but it was important to be honest with them, putting his pen and pad down he looked between the two girls, "Yeah," he softly, his tone taking on the gentle "victim" tone, that Roger had used to roast him over, "There was an incident last night." he continued, "I regret to inform you that, Miss St. Cloud was murdered, somewhere between one and two o'clock this morning," he said. He had found that blunt honesty and directness was always the best course. Even with kids; kids could handle a lot more than anyone ever gave them credit for.

Bette gasped, a hand going to her mouth in muted horror. "Oh my god," said Barbara, "Are you serious,"

Percy nodded solemnly, "I'm very sorry for your loss, and ordinarily and I'd want nothing more than to let you grieve peacefully, however, the clock is ticking and we have a lot of questions unanswered, so please I need your help here ladies," he said.

Barbara swallowed thickly, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes but she nodded resolutely, and Percy had to admire the young girl's ability to keep herself composed, "We met her last year. Miss Rushman said that she needed help, that she was having difficulties adjusting to school here. Her family had just moved back to Gotham and she didn't have any friends." Barbara nodded sadly, "Our tutoring sessions usually just led to us hanging out for a few hours; talking, watching movies, just being together you know?"

Percy nodded, writing down some notes in his notepad, "So would you say you knew her well?" he asked,

Barbara frowned in thought, "Well enough to know that she'd been acting a little strange lately,"

That got Percy's attention, it had been where his questioning had been going, "Strange in what way,"

"S-she um, she missed our last meeting," Bette said, stumbling over her words slightly as she tried to fight through tears. Barbara reached next to her and grabbed her friend's hand reassuringly,

"And that wasn't a normal occurrence then?" Percy asked,

"No," said Barbara, shaking her head, "We usually met three times a week, it's been that way since we met; and she never once called or texted to cancel a meeting, until this week…" she said, trailing off.

Percy nodded, "Alright, did she tell you why she had to cancel?"

Bette shook her head, "No," she sniffled, "She just said that there were urgent family matters that she had to deal with and wouldn't be able to meet at all this week,"

"She didn't specify at all what those problems were?" Percy asked, continuing to write as he did so, and Bette shook her head,

Barbara frowned as she thought back on the last week, "She did seem a little more nervous this week," she said,

"Nervous how?" Percy asked,

"I don't know," the redhead said, "She was…shifty. Always looking around, constantly tense, as though she was worried she was going to get jumped at any-" she stopped talking, shaking slightly as the reality of what she said came through. Percy allowed her a few moments to collect herself before asking prompting her,

"Ok, so she seemed jumpy, scared?" he probed,

Barbara nodded, "She would normally hang around school for a bit after class, you know study in the library or go to the gym, but for the past week she would get immediately picked up and she would go straight back to the penthouse. We tried to ask her what was wrong but she just kept telling us that she was stressed because of something going on with her parents,"

"Did she ever specify what was going on with them?" Percy asked,

"No," said Barbara, "Just that they were pushing her to take on a more active role in the family business. We were surprised when she didn't go with them to Brussels."

Percy nodded, scribbling down a few more notes, "Ok, this penthouse, have either of you ever been there?"

"Yeah," Bette nodded, "It was on Wealthy, 271 Wealthy. Down in Robbinsville," she said, "We used to study there together…" and then the poor girl broke down crying again. Leaning into Barbara's shoulder.

"Is there anything else you can think of?" Percy asked gently, "Anything, even the most irrelevant detail could prove vitally important."

Barbara thought for a second, still holding Bette's shoulder, "I did notice that her driver was different this week," she said,

"Driver?" Percy asked,

"Yeah, her family has someone drop them off from their penthouse every morning,"

Percy was nodding, "Ok, and prior to this past week, she had the same driver, every single day?" Barbara nodded,

"Do you know his name by chance?" he asked, and the pair of girls shook their heads. Sighing Percy circled some notes on his pad before. Looking up, Percy caught sight of his detective and a woman he hadn't met walk into the cafeteria, looking back at the girls Percy closed his notebook and put it away in his suit pocket. Reaching into his pants he withdrew a couple of business cards, leftover from his time in Metropolis. Scratching out the "Metropolis Police Department" at the top of the card, he flipped them over and wrote a name and number on the back.

Handing the cards to Barbara he said, "That is my personal cell. You think of anything else and you give me a call, day or night. Even if you just need to talk to someone, use it, my line is always open for you ok?" and Barbara nodded, tucking the cards into the jacket pocket of her uniform. "On the back is the number for a grief counselor, her name is Sharon MacMillian. Tell her Percy recommended you and she'll help you out with anything else you might need ok?" Seeing the pair nod, Percy stood up, "I'm very sorry for your loss ladies. But I promise you, we're going to get the person who did this, and they will see justice."

With one last sorrowful look at the mourning teenagers, Percy stepped away from the table, and passed by the woman who had come in with Montoya. The woman gently grabbed both girls by the shoulder, and after a few whispered words, escorted the pair out of the cafeteria.

"Who's that?" he asked as he approached his partner,

"School shrink" she said, "Came rushing into the classroom as I was interviewing Rushman. By the way, you have no idea who it was you were talking to, do you?" She asked, an excited shit-eating grin on her face.

Percy quirked an eyebrow, "No…" he said slowly, turning to look back in time to see Miss Gordon turn back and stare at him as she was ushered out of the cafeteria, "Should I have?" he asked,

"Nah," said Montoya, waving it off but maintaining her smarmy grin.

"Ok…" Percy drawled before shaking it off and asking, "Get anything out of the teacher?"

"Said that St. Cloud had been jumpy as hell all week. Was fidgety, could hardly concentrate in class, said that was nothing like how she normally acted. But that was pretty much it. She didn't have much for me besides what we already knew. How about you, get anything form the girls?"

Percy nodded, "Told me the same thing, that she had been nervous all week, like she was scared about something. The girls told me that she had been taking a more active role in the family business, but couldn't tell me what that meant. They also gave me the address for the Penthouse the family was staying at. And get this, prior to this week, the girl always had the same driver to and from school. Then all of a sudden, there was a new guy driving her around."

"Sounds like we need to visit the penthouse, and maybe see if we can track down this missing driver,"

"I was thinking the same thing," Percy smirked, and Montoya threw her keys at him, "You drive, I'll make some calls, see if the driver was individually hired or worked for a chauffeur company."

_**AN: **_**Honestly this got a better reception than I was expecting. Hopefully this chapter gives you a better idea as to what I'm going for here. This is going to be a slower paced, character driven, detective drama. Think law and order with superheroes. Percy still has his powers and he is going to be interacting with people, but this story is going to be more of a focus on how superheroes and their actions effect the world around them. I have one more chapter ready to go after this one before I need to start writing more but I still need to see if the community thinks the story will have legs before I spend too much time on it. So please, let me know what you think, and I hope you enjoyed because honestly, I'm having a blast writing and imagining this one. Love you all,**

**Love,**

**LilDB**


	3. Partner Loyalty

"Are you absolutely sure about that? No, no that's fine. Do you have his address on file? Perfect, yes I'm ready for it. Uh-huh, ok, wonderful thank so much for you help I really appreciate it." Montoya ended the call and looked at Percy he pulled the cruiser up to the stop light,

"That was Ganteer's Chauffeur services, the ones the St. Cloud's had on retainer, apparently, one John Dorsett hasn't called in sick once this week. And the company swears up and down that Mr. Dorsett has been the personal driver for Silver St. Cloud since the St. Cloud's moved to Gotham."

Percy looked over briefly, then readjusted and took off down the road when the light turned green, "Sounds like we need to pay Mr. Dorsett a little visit. You get an address?"

"Yup, got a townhouse in the village, we'll head over after the penthouse." Percy just hummed in agreement.

Pulling into a parking space across from the town house the two detectives crossed the street and passed over into the Robbinsville High Rise. Crossing through the ostentatious lobby to the help desk, a pretty young woman with dark raven hair and deep almond skin greeted them in a false cheer, "Welcome to Robbinsville, looking to check in?"

The detectives showed their identification, and the smile dropped from the receptionist's face, "You're here for the St. Cloud residence?" she asked,

"Yes ma'am," Percy nodded,

"It hasn't been cleaned yet correct?"

The woman shook her head, "The service doesn't usually make it up to the penthouse before noon, but when we got your call I went ahead and cancelled the cleaning for today,"

Percy beamed at her and the woman smiled shyly at him, "That's awesome, thank you very much." The woman just brushed off the praise, her cheeks darkening slightly. Percy missed the way Montoya rolled her eyes but Percy was oblivious to it all.

"Anything I can do to help out the…brave members of our GCPD." She said, not even looking at Montoya,

Clearing her throat, Montoya tried to bring the woman's attention to her, but she was a little too distracted by her partner. Percy meanwhile, did turn to look at his partner, who just ignored him, "Can we get someone to let us into the room? Please?" She added, almost as an afterthought. The woman shook free from her daydreaming and nodded emphatically, "of course detective, one moment." Then she disappeared into a room behind the counter.

Percy turned and shot his partner a look, she glowered back at him, "What?" he asked,

"This going to be a thing with you?" she asked crossing her arms and looking at him, "Cause I gotta deal with it enough from those dipshits at the precinct, so if I have to deal with you flirting with everything with two legs and a pair of tits, I'd just like to know in advance."

Percy's expression darkened considerably, his brow furrowed and the lines of his face curved downward, "I don't know what the fuck you think just happened but it didn't. I don't make it a habit of trying to score on the job. I've got a bit more personal pride than that. And I'd thank you, for not lumping me in with those jackasses Cavallo and Wise." Leaning up against the counter, he crossed his arms, his suit jacket creasing slightly with the movement,

"Look Montoya, I know we haven't known each other very long yet, but I'd like to think that I presented myself a bit more professionally than what you're accusing me of."

Montoya just sighed, and looked away. He was right and she knew it, "You're right," she admitted, "I'm sorry. It's just, being the only female detective in the squad…" she trailed off, and Percy raised his hands in the air,

"No, no, believe me I get it. You got more to prove than anyone and I respect that. Stuck in the boys club that is the GCPD," He chuckled likely under his breath, "You remind me of Lois actually, always trying to prove herself when she had already proven that she was the best." He looked off fondly into the distance, but before Montoya could respond the door opened and the receptionist came walking back.

As he was turning around, Percy winked and whispered, "And besides, I wasn't the one staring at her ass as she walked away." And with a smirk Percy turned away from the furiously blushing, and thoroughly mortified detective.

Montoya tuned out the rest of the conversation between Percy and the receptionist, her mind instead choosing to latch onto a little nugget of information Percy had dropped during the conversation. As they were being escorted by a member of maintenance to the room, her brain had reset enough for her to ask, "Wait when you said Lois, you didn't mean Lois Lane did you?"

Percy just looked down at her, an amused expression on his face, "Well yeah. Know any other hot-headed reporters who get into too much trouble for their own good?" he asked,

Montoya's mouth worked soundlessly, as she tried to catch up with the flow of the conversation. "You cannot possibly be suggesting that slept with Lois Lane?" she blurted out before her brain could stop her mouth,

"Woah!" Percy exclaimed, "Don't go putting words in my mouth Montoya, I just compared you to her is all."

"But you do know her?" she pressed as the stepped into the elevator,

Percy shrugged, "Yeah." he said simply, like the fact that he was on a first-name basis with a Pulitzer winner was no big deal, "I worked Major Crimes in Metropolis, she worked all the big stories for The Planet. Chances were, if I was called to a scene then she would be there shortly thereafter. She interviewed me a few times; even went out for drinks with her and Jimmy, her camera guy, a few times. Pretty sure they were just trying to grill me for case notes, but still."

"I literally cannot believe what I'm hearing right now," Montoya muttered,

She was spared from having to think anymore as they arrived at the penthouse suite. The elevator opened up into a short hallway with a single door. The maintenance worker inserted a master key card into the lock and the door unlocked, pushing the door open slightly, Percy immediately reached into his shoulder holster and withdrew his pistol.

It looked as though a tornado had flown through the room. Tables, chairs, and the sofa were upended, cushions were strewn across the floor, and drawers were open, their contents thrown carelessly onto the ground. Montoya pushed into the room, first, her weapon drawn as well, and Percy followed behind her, gently shoving the hotel worker out of the way as he did so.

Montoya veered to the right, heading towards the kitchen area and Percy moved left, sweeping to clear the bedrooms. He stepped carefully, doing his best to preserve the scene as he could. Percy knew they weren't likely to find anyone still in the room, but it was better to safe than sorry in an instance like this. Moving into the first bedroom, he cleared his flank first, checking behind the door before doing another visual sweep, but coming up short.

"First bedroom clear," he said loudly,

"Kitchen clear," was the response

Moving out of the room, Percy cleared into the second bedroom, a quick perimeter sweep cleared it as well. He re-holstered his weapon and convened with Montoya in the living room. "This couldn't have happened too long ago." Percy said as he approached,

"Agreed," said Montoya, "I'd wager my salary that this happened just after the murder."

"Place this fancy has to have camera's, right?" Percy said,

"If not in the halls, then there's definitely some outside," Montoya agreed,

"You just know, place like this, the manager is going to demand a warrant," Percy added, sweeping an arm around the room for emphasis,

"Shouldn't be a problem, we've got an in, in the District Attorney's office," Montoya said, nonchalantly,

Percy just shot her a skeptical look, "I'm not exactly up to speed on the political landscape of Gotham yet, who do we got in the DA's office?"

Montoya just smirked as she headed towards the stairs, "The DA himself. Harvey Dent."

BREAK

Sure enough, the high rise's manager had demanded a warrant before he allowed Percy and Montoya to go searching through the video records of the previous night. Montoya said that it would be a sure thing and wasn't worth worrying about. Apparently, the DA was a real hardass, a cop's DA, willing to the extra mile if it meant getting a bad guy off the street. Montoya said that they'd likely have their warrant by the following morning.

The left the high rise as the forensics teams were moving in, it was likely that whatever was pulled out of the penthouse wouldn't aid in the search for their killer, but Percy was willing to be that the forensics team would be able to find something to pin the bastard to the room when Percy and Montoya found him.

So they left the high rise and were pulling up along the curb just outside the townhouse rented by John Dorsett. They had barely made it out of the car before they were accosted by an older woman and a large golden retriever,

"Excuse me, are you with health department?" she asked,

"Not exactly," said Percy, as he reached into his shirt to flash his badge, "GCPD, why, what's going on?"

"Oh, even better," the woman said, before pointing a gnarled finger at the townhouse, "I don't know what he's been doing in there, but that Dorsett is stinking up the entire neighborhood." she said bitterly, "Every morning I wake up and try to take Frederick out for his morning walk, but that place stinks so badly that he doesn't even want to leave the house!" the dog chose that moment to whine, as if in agreement with his owner's agitation.

"What kind of a smell?" Montoya asked,

"Like something's rotting in there, like an animal or something!"

Percy and Montoya shared a worried glance, "Don't worry ma'am, we'll take care of it." he said and before the woman could respond, he and Montoya took off across the street. They were barely on the steps before the smell hit them, "Holy shit," Percy said, one hand immediately reaching down to pull his undershirt over his mouth and nose while the other reached into his holster and drew his gun for the second time that day.

"I really hate that friggin smell," Montoya agreed, "But I'm pretty damn sure that qualifies as probable cause for a search," she said, her voice muffled by her own shirt. Percy grunted in agreement, before leaning back, and kicking the door in. He was a little overzealous and damn near knocked the door off its hinges, and it slammed loudly into the wall in the entrance way.

Ignoring it for the time being, Percy took point, shouting, "GCPD, Mister Dorsett, are you in here?" There was no response. So they trekked deeper into the home. Walking passed the stairs leading to the second floor, the pair moved into the kitchen, but nothing was amiss. It looked as though it hadn't been used in some time, but apart from that, there was nothing overly suspicious. The same could be said about the living room. Turning around, Percy led point back down, Percy moved slowly and deliberately down the hall and up the stairs. The smell on the second floor was almost unbearable.

Powering through it by holding his breath, Percy approached the door to the master bedroom. It was slightly ajar, and he could hear a buzzing sound from beneath the boards of the door. Glancing at his partner, who nodded at him, Percy pushed the door open and nearly gagged on the spot, as the smell of rank and rot, permeated his sinuses.

The room was remarkably untouched. The bed was made, the television was off, and nothing was out of place. Save for the dead body on the floor. The body with three bullet holes in it, two in the back, and one in the back of the head.

Small caliber.

A second victim.

BREAK

They had to pull the forensics unit from the penthouse and bring them over to the townhouse, leaving only patrol units back over at the penthouse. Percy and Montoya had spent the better half of the afternoon conducting interviews with the members of the community, but nobody could recall seeing or hearing anything suspicious in the last week from the Dorsett house. That was, until Montoya interviewed Stanley Winters.

Montoya learned that at roughly one in the morning last week, Winter's had been coming home from an overseas trip to London. His plane had landed late and had just been pulling into the driveway when he saw the car. He had thought it was suspicious, everyone in the village knew of everyone else's business, being so close together and all, and he thought it odd that Dorsett would be taking his company car out so late.

But he had been too tired from the travel to think anything of it. A quick look into the parking garage was enough to confirm the story; John Dorsett's car was missing. While Montoya was going over a search report with a few patrol officers, Percy put in a call for an APB on the large, black, utility vehicle. He also called the chauffeur company, in the hopes that they had a LoJack installed.

Unfortunately for the detectives, Ganteer's Chauffeuring required employees to supply their own vehicles and Dorsett did not have a LoJack installed. Knowing there would be little else for them to do until the forensics lab came back with something for them, and with it being nearly four o'clock in the afternoon, Percy and Montoya left the scene in the hopes of getting some of their paper work finished.

Percy had watched a lot of Law and Order as a kid. It had been exciting and fun and gross, all things that growing young boys loved in their television. Unfortunately, as Percy found out after graduating the academy, his favorite show as a child had not prepared him for the amount of paperwork required and the number of reports that needed to be written up. After literally anything he did, Percy needed to fill out a detailed report, explaining exactly what happened, who was there, what was done and by whom.

He understood why, detailed case files and reports ensured that policy was followed properly and it ensured to the government that Percy was actually doing what he was being payed to do. It was boring as hell though and he hated it. It didn't help that he usually got distracted halfway through and lost interest. He had a prescription to help but he hated taking the medicine, it dulled his senses far too much for him to like, and for someone like Percy, dulled senses usually led to death. Either by the person he was investigating or something…else.

Unfortunately for Percy, or fortunately depending on the perspective, he didn't even get a chance to start the looming mountain of paperwork he needed to get done. The second he and Montoya stepped into the bullpen, the door to the lieutenant's office was swing open. "Jackson," roared lieutenant Davis Winston, a man in his early forties, with thinning gray hair and wrinkles. "Get in here, now!"

"The hell did I do?" Percy muttered as he changed his direction from his desk to the precinct commander's office.

Montoya shrugged, "I have no idea," she murmured back, as she watched the lieutenant warily. Winston was on the long list of commanding personnel in the GCPD who were suspected of being on the take. Winston and his family had long historic ties to the Falcone crime family, and while Winston himself seemingly had no record with the mob, Commissioner Gordon had him marked as a suspect. Not that Percy knew that. Nor did he know that damn near half the precinct was currently being investigated by Internal Affairs for supposedly being on the Falcone payroll.

Moving into the office, lieutenant Winston glaring at him the whole way, the door was slammed behind him. However, Percy and Winston were not alone in the office. Facing the lieutenant's desk was an older man, with deep brown hair and bushy mustache. His hands were in his pockets, pushing back the folds of the tan trench-coat across his shoulders, as he read an open file on the desk.

"Detective Jackson-" the lieutenant was cut off by the man at the desk,

"Give us the room, lieutenant," said the man,

"Sir?" he asked confused, but the man just stared at him. Gulping, he just nodded reluctantly and left the room, leaving Percy alone with the unknown.

For a moment, the stranger just stared at Percy, his gray eyes gauging Percy behind his thick rimmed glasses. After an uncomfortable amount of time passed, with seemingly neither party willing to give in to the little power play they were having, apparently the bespectacled man had enough.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked, his voice was gruff, and authoritative.

"No sir, I do not." Percy replied,

"Commissioner James Gordon," He said, by way of introduction, and Percy balked at that. He supposed that he should have known or at least recognized the man who was ultimately his boss, however Percy had been in a bit of a daze during his transfer, and having never met the man, had never actually done any research into his new commanding officer. It had been a mistake on Percy's part, but he had been grieving and more than a little lost. Desperate to get out of the bad situation in Metropolis and had just jumped at the opportunity presented to him by Commissioner Corporon without a second thought.

"Pleasure to meet you sir," Percy said, extending a hand out to the Commissioner, but the man just continued to stare at him.

"You know why I'm here, son?" Gordon asked,

Retracting his hand Percy shook his head, "Um, no sir, no I do not."

The man nodded, as though that was what he was suspecting, "I figured as much," he said, "This morning, you interviewed a pair of students at Gotham Academy?" he asked, though Percy felt it was more of a statement,

"Yes sir," he nodded, "A miss Bette Kane and Barbara…Gordon…Oh shit,"

The commissioner had the nerve to smirk at him, "Eloquently put detective," he said, before he leaned forward over the desk, resting his hands on the mahogany top, "Imagine my surprise when, just a few hours ago, I get a phone call from my daughter's school. They tell me that not only has one of my daughter's friends been murdered, but that a pair of detectives, MY detectives," he stressed, "Had been interviewing not only members of the staff, not just students, but my own daughter."

His eyes narrowed into slits, "Mind explaining to me why the hell you were interrogating my daughter?" he growled.

Now Percy had been chewed out before, especially during his time in the service and even worse so when he was in the Legion. He was a bit of a smartass so it came with the territory. So, this was not the first time he had been faced with a supremely pissed off C.O. That being said, given the individuals, divine and otherwise, that Percy had managed to piss off over the years, he just could not bring himself to be all that intimidated by the Commissioner's glare. And so, he projected that front in his own posture, he remained relaxed, and calm.

After all, he hadn't done anything incorrectly, and the girl wasn't a suspect, she had freely volunteered to answer his questions. Hell, because it wasn't a formal interview, he wasn't even required to ensure she had legal supervision. So, Percy knew that he had no done anything wrong, and that this was the effort of a man concerned for the well-being and safety of his daughter. Percy could respect that, even if it was annoying as all hell.

With that in mind, he straightened his back and turned on what his boys in the teams called his, "leader-face," which was essentially just an icy cold glare. He wasn't one to be intimidated, even by his own boss. "With all due respect sir, it was not an interrogation. During the course of our investigation, we were led to believe that the victim attended Gotham Academy. We followed the process which led me to the two best-friends known to our victim. I simply did what we are trained to do, I inquired about the relationship they had to our victim. I also attempted to determine if they had any knowledge which could have proven useful to our investigation. It was not an interrogation. Neither Miss Gordon or Miss Kane are suspects. If you have a problem with how I handled things than please, let's not beat around the bush and play pretend."

Gordon just stared at him for a minute, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. Finally, his scowl turned into a smirk, and he began to chuckle. A deep, rumbling sound, like the motor of a vintage car. "You got spunk kid. Better yet, you're not easily intimidated, that's good, lord knows we need more of that around here." he said, stepping out from behind his desk to approach Percy.

This time, he was the one to initiate the handshake, to which Percy did accept. "Sorry for the third-degree son, but where my little girl is concerned, I tend to lose my judgement. Just wanted to make sure she was telling the truth about you," he said, releasing Percy's firm grip.

"Sir?" Percy asked,

"I called her, just after I got off with the school. She had nothing but good things to say about the, quote: "cute, new detective," told me he was nothing but professional, courteous, and sympathetic. That he even gave her and Miss Kane his personal number to call for help, and the number of a VERY well accredited grief counselor in Metropolis." he added, with an eyebrow raise, as though asking a question.

"I helped her with a missing person's case when I was still on the beat," Percy answered the unasked question.

Gordon nodded, "However, I need you to understand something here," he said, the stern look coming back over his hard features, "The St. Clouds are a very influential family, almost as active in the community as Wayne is. That their kid was murdered in an alleyway is going to be big news. I've been on and off the phone with the mayor all damn day about this." he grumbled, shoving his hands back into his pockets, "This case is taking a priority until it's solved, you and Montoya are not to take on any new cases until you have this thing wrapped up in a pretty pink ribbon for us."

Percy nodded, though he wasn't exactly happy about it. Not to disparage the dead, but it seemed wrong for him and Montoya to ignore any other potential cases to work this one, just because the girl's family was politically powerful. It wasn't something he hadn't had to deal with before, but it still couldn't stop Percy from hating the situation. Money made things move, and in a town like Gotham, that was doubly true.

Gordon clearly saw Percy's grimace and sighed in understanding, "Look son, I get it, believe me I do. Wasn't that long ago that I was in your shoes. I don't like this any more than you do but you know how these things go and to Mayor Hill, reputation is everything." He looked down for a second before meeting Percy's eyes again, "So I need to know where you are so far with the case,"

Percy nodded, before he proceeded to fill the commissioner in on what had been happening so far with the investigation, when he was done with his oral report Gordon was silent. "Alright, I'll check with the forensics lab, in person, and put a press on them to get your case to the front of the line. You should have what you need in the morning. I'll also give Dent a call, see if he can help expedite a warrant on the hotel, that shouldn't be a problem but a little pressure on the right judge will go a long way towards making all of this happen a little faster. In the meantime, I want you and Renee to focus on finding that car, and figuring out who the hell was driving that little girl around for the last week."

Percy nodded, "I'll check back in with the chauffeur company, see if they had any kind of records on where they were going on a daily basis, and I'll see if anyone at the hotel saw anything."

Gordon nodded appreciatively, "Do that, any luck on getting in touch with the parents?"

Percy shook his head, "Not yet, I was going to try again, with the time change, it should be about mid-day over there and hopefully I might be able to get ahold of one of them. I left about seven messages this morning."

Gordon hummed in thought, "You let them know it was about their daughter?"

Percy nodded, "Yessir, at this point it feels like they're deliberately dodging my calls."

Gordon quirked a brow, "Think they had something to do with it?" he asked,

Percy shrugged, "I try not to apply motive or speculation to something until I have all of the facts."

Gordon grunted in agreement, "Good man, you start applying theories to the crime and you begin to try warping and twisting the narrative to fit your theory." Gordon was quiet for a few seconds before he nodded at the door, "All right detective, that'll be everything for now. But I want updates on all of this, progress reports once a day until we find the son of a bitch that did this."

Percy nodded in agreement, "All right Jackson, you're dismissed, and send Renee in after ya, I need to have a word with her too."

"Pleasure to meet you sir," Percy said as he opened the door to the office and stepped back out into the bullpen. He caught sight of the lieutenant, staring at him from his place perched against Cavallo's cubicle, but Percy ignored him. Walking back over to his own station, he sat down, tapping his partner on the shoulder,

"You still employed?" Montoya asked, not looking up from her work,

Percy just glared jokingly at her, "Yes, I am." he said, "Thanks for the heads up about Gordon's kid by the way, good looking out." she just looked up and smirked at him. Percy rolled his eye before jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the office, "Your turn," he said, and Montoya looked at him confused, before glancing around Percy at the office.

"What about?" she asked warily and Percy shrugged, "Not sure, probably just wants to talk over the case with you."

She just shot him a look before getting up from her station and making her way to the office, not willing to not have the last comment, Percy said back to her, "Or maybe he wants to grill you over your lack of partner loyalty." He grinned cheekily when she flipped him off in response. Taking his sport coat off, he flung it over the back of chair and rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up, pulling the stack of paperwork closer to him.

It was going to be a long night.


	4. Making Friends

**Edit: The original draft of this chapter was missing a minor detail that was an important part of Dinah's character introduction. **

Groaning, Percy leaned back in his chair, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. He had been staring at paperwork for the last three hours, and while he had put s serious dent in it, there was still a stack left to be done. Next to him, he heard his partner groan and begin shuffling papers of her own. Seeing her stand up, he asked,

"You calling it?"

She nodded, checking her watch, "I got a date in half an hour and honestly," she looked banefully at the stack of papers and reports, "We can get the rest of this taken care of in the morning."

Percy nodded, "I uh, I think I'm going to stick around for a few minutes, try and hammer through the penthouse papers before I turn in. Meet up for breakfast tomorrow? Establish a battle plan?" he asked,

She nodded and smiled, "There's a cop diner a block from here called Mulley's, be there at seven?"

"Sounds good," he smiled back, turning back to his paperwork, "And have fun tonight, don't do anyone I wouldn't"

"Don't you mean anything?" she laughed over shoulder,

"I know what I said," he shot back, and her laugh carried her out of the station.

He only lasted another thirty minutes before he finally had to call it in. Checking his watch, he got up, collected his things before shutting his monitor and station light off. Stopping briefly at the station desk he greeted the night-shift sergeant, "Hey there," he said, extending a hand out and briefly shaking the woman's hand, "Detective Percy Jackson, I just transferred in from Metropolis."

The sergeant, a pretty redhead with deep green eyes and a sporting of freckles, smiled back at him, "Officer Mullens, pleasure to meet you detective,"

He retracted his hand of shake and waved a hand vaguely behind him, "So this is literally my first day in Gotham and I'm still trying to get a lay of the land so to speak, any good gyms in the area?" he asked, he'd had to make do with his apartment's gym that morning and the facility hadn't had any free weights or bags. While he was never one to shirk off his cardio, running alone wouldn't keep him in fighting shape.

She frowned in thought and sat back a little in her chair, "Closest is 'hard knocks' but um…you probably want to stay away from there," she said thoughtfully, furrowing his brow Percy asked why and the Mullens grew a little sheepish, "They're not the friendliest towards us blue backs." she said, "Oh, but Wildcat Gym is just a few blocks from here. My father is a friend of Ted's, the owner, he's good people. Former boxer, has a good setup, just let him know I sent you, he'll hook you up." she said, smiling brightly,

Percy flashed her a charming smile, "Thanks officer-"

"Anna" she cut across him, blushing slightly,

Chuckling, Percy amended, "Thanks Anna, I appreciate it." he tapped her desk and turned around, "Have a good night,"

"Good night detective," she called out,

Percy smiled over his shoulder, "My friends call me Percy," and he opened the door to the cool autumn evening.

BREAK

The gym was a little run down, an older building built into the lower level of an older and vacated office building. Percy hoisted his gym bag a little higher onto his shoulder as he stepped in. There was a small desk in what was supposed to be a pseudo waiting area. There was an older man behind the counter, in his late sixties with patchwork graying hair, and a spattering of facial hair. Looking down at his arms, Percy caught sight of the globe shaped tattoo on the man's forearm,

He was slouched back in his chair, mouth agape, and snoring lightly with a copy of 'Military Heritage', propped up in his lap. Smirking, Percy slouched against the counter. Raising his hand he slammed it heavily against the counter. The loud smack jerked the aging man out of his sleep. Choking lightly on his own spit, he sat upright sputtering.

"Getting some rack in, old-timer?" he asked cheekily, placing an elbow on the desk.

The man just glared at him, "Something I can help you with, you uppity little shit." the man asked, glowering as he restated himself,

Percy just laughed, "Relax jarhead, I'm just teasing you. I just moved into the city and the gym at my apartment leaves a lot to be desired. I asked around the office and Anna Mullens suggested this place; told me you knew your shit."

A happy smile spread across the older man's face, the creases along his forehead relaxing as he did so, "Oh, little Annie," he said fondly, "You're a cop then," he said as he stared at Percy, before his gaze drifted downward at the small tattoo on the underside of Percy's wrist. The man's eyes narrowed in thought for a moment before they lit up in recognition. Looking back up at Percy with a new understanding in his eyes, he reached out a hand, "Staff Sergeant Ted Grant, Marines." he said,

Gripping the man's hand tightly, Percy smiled back at him knowingly, "Chief Petty Officer Percy Jackson, Navy."

"How long were you in, Frogman?" and Percy raised a brow at the slang,

"Four tours." he said simply, "You?"

"I was in from '68-73', Vietnam." Ted said,

"That was some terrible business," Percy remarked,

"That it was, but I didn't have much of a choice, got drafted out of high school. Why'd you sign up?" Ted asked,

Percy shrugged, a flurry of emotions passing over him as he became awash in memory, "I was…lost for a while; a ship without a rudder you know, just kind of sitting around not doing anything. Happened to have a run in with a recruiter; one thing led to another and I found myself on the way to Coronado for BUD/S." Percy paused, looking down at his feet as he avoided Ted's gaze, "I found purpose in what I was doing you know? When I was over there, I don't know it was just like…" he trailed off, unsure how to explain it,

"It was like life became simpler right?" Ted supplied, and Percy looked up at him, "Over there, it's just you and your buddies. You don't have to worry about rent, or gossip or any of the other bull shit drama that comes with civilian life. It all just becomes you and your buddies, and making sure everyone comes home with as many pieces as they got there with."

Percy nodded at him, "Yeah…something like that." Percy said, and they lapsed into companionable silence for a bit, both men equally lost in their own memories. Finally, Percy asked, "How'd you know I was in the Teams?" he asked,

Ted just pointed at Percy's tattoo, a little red seal splashing in the water, "I ran around with some UDT boys in the bush. Some real cowboys."

Percy just chuckled, "Not a lot has changed if I'm honest,"

Ted joined in the laughter, "I would sure as hell hope not," he jerked a thumb over to the gym, pointing over to a doorway just passed the desk, "Lockers are through there, weights are behind the ring." he said, gesturing to each location as he spoke, bags are around the corner and if you want to use the ring just let me know."

Percy just nodded to the man, before inquiring about price for a membership, "twenty-five bucks a month or two fifty for the year."

Percy quirked an eyebrow, "I know math isn't exactly paramount for jarheads but just so you know, twenty-five times twelve is three hundred."

Ted just glared at him, but there was no heat behind it. "If you must know smartass, that two-fifty is going to more than cover the cost of keeping things moving in here. Just consider it an incentive to give me the cash up front, rather than paying it monthly. Most gyms do it."

Percy just laughed as he fished his wallet out, He slapped three hundred's on the desk, "For the year-long membership," he said, before he grabbed another two hundred and laid it next to the other bills,

Ted eyed the bills, before he eyed Percy, "Now who's bad at math?" he asked, not touching the money.

Percy just stared at him, "Consider it a tip." Percy said, his tone becoming a little more serious, "In case your eyesight starts go a little," Ted was thoroughly confused by that statement so Percy explained, "You're getting up there old timer, eyes aren't quite what they used to be. So if you see me lifting a lot more weight than should be possible…" he trailed off and understanding flashed through the older man's eyes, along with an undercurrent of something else.

Nodding slightly, the veteran picked the cash off the table, before stuffing it in a drawer below the desk, "That's right son, forgot for a second. Memory must be going too." He eyed Percy seriously and nodded in understanding at the young man, "Along with my eyesight."

Percy just smiled before tapping the desk, and turning towards the locker room.

Changing out of his work clothes, Percy threw on a pair of gym shorts and a sleeveless hoodie. Pulling on an armband to his bicep, he slipped his phone into the sleeve and popped his earbuds in. Cranking his music, Percy walked back out of the locker room and headed towards the free weights in the back, fully intending to vent his frustrations on the case through the workout.

BREAK

"Why are we here again?" Artemis groaned, as she lugged her gym bag over her shoulder.

Dinah just gave her a reassuring smile, "Is it so wrong that I wanted to spend some time with you?" she asked, as she threw an arm around the younger girl's shoulders. "There's been a lot of testosterone being thrown around the cave recently and I just figured that, you know, some girl time would do you some good."

Artemis gave her a skeptical look, "Then why isn't M'gann here?" she asked,

Dinah adopted a bit of a sheepish expression as the pair crossed across the fairly empty street, "She's very sweet but, um…" she trailed off, not quite sure how to say what she was thinking.

"She's getting on your nerves, isn't she?" Artemis asked, she was feeling the same way. She loved the girl, she was nice and had been more than welcoming which was more than Artemis could say for other members of their little team, but the Martian had a bad habit of hovering. Figuratively, not literally. Sometimes Artemis just wanted to spend some time alone training but with M'gann…everything had to be a bonding experience.

It was getting a little exhausting, and truth be told, Artemis was actually kind of thankful to be getting out of the cave.

"Not the word I would use." Dinah said as they stepped up onto the sidewalk and began walking down towards the old gym, "But if I have to listen her mix for her tryout one more time, I think I might break the cave's sound system."

Artemis laughed, her friend had been getting ready for a tryout for the Happy Harbor High School cheerleading team and was spending an inordinate amount of time practicing her routine in the training space. Which meant she had been playing the tryout music in the cave at every available moment, every day, for the last eight days.

If Artemis never heard those songs again for the rest of her life, it would be too soon.

"And besides," Dinah was saying, "After everything that has been happening with Red and the team…" she trailed off for a second as she tried to find the right words, "I just figured that you might need a bit of an escape is all. Just some time away, you know, just us ladies."

This time, Artemis looked away. Things with the team had been better after that whole fiasco with the brain in a jar. But things were still pretty tense around the cave. They didn't know what was going on with Red Tornado or with the other androids, and Artemis was still feeling shaky around her teammates. She had just been starting to trust them when Aqualad dropped that bombshell about the mole. Instead of addressing these issues, Artemis deflected the conversation.

"Still doesn't explain why we had to come all the way to Gotham." she probed her older instructor, "Don't you live in Star City? And what's with the wig?"

Dinah's features hardened a bit, "I moved" she said shortly, and the tone of her voice indicated that she would prefer it if the matter was dropped. But Artemis wasn't about to do that. Whatever was going on there, sounded good, so she probed a little more,

"Trouble in paradise with my…uncle?" she asked, a little too innocently because Dinah just glared at her,

"Not that it's any business of you kids," and she stressed the kids because Dinah knew that it pissed off all of the teenagers when the older leaguers brought up their ages as a talking point, "But Oliver and I are having a bit of a rough patch right now." She scowled and her grip on Artemis' shoulder tightened. But the moment passed quickly and the older woman blew out an annoyed sigh, "But, what better way to vent frustrations, than by hitting things. Specifically, you trying to hit me."

"Fair enough," Artemis grumbled, "But seriously, what's with the wig?"

Dinah subconsciously ran a hand through the dark raven locks on top of her head, she hated the damn things, but considering she had never worn a mask during her time as hero, she needed to do something to conceal her identity, so she explained as much to the young woman.

"That's stupid, but whatever," Artemis said under her breath. Dinah chose not to respond.

Stopping short in front of an old office building, Dinah pulled the door open, and ushered the young archer before she could say anything in protest.

"Ted, you old bat, you better not be sleeping at the desk again." Dinah announced loudly as she walked in behind Artemis.

There was some loud laughter from behind the desk before Ted Grant stood up from his seat to pull his wayward pupil into a tight hug that she gladly returned.

"What the hell are you doin' back in Gotham little bird?" Ted said pulling away from her and leaning back against the desk. Then his eyes darted to Artemis and he quirked a quizzical brow, "You uh…taking on a new partner?" he asked warily, trying to dance around the topic of his pseudo-daughter's other profession.

Dinah laughed, before shaking her head, "It's ok Ted, she one of us. And to answer your question, no, she's not mine. The league has-" she was cut off quickly as Ted shushed her, before pointing surreptitiously with a finger to the back corner of the gym. Dinah and Artemis both quickly glanced over to see a man in his late-twenties deadlifting an absurd amount of weight. The bar was holding the maximum number of forty-five pound weights on each side of the bar. Which should have been impossible for an ordinary person to lift.

Although, judging by the sheer size of the man, perhaps not. Dinah's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but Ted was quick to assuage her concerns. "I already checked," he said quietly, "He's not in any database as a known bad guy, or a hero. But still…" he trailed off and Dinah nodded her head, filing the information away to talk with her former teacher again later.

"Right…" she said softly, looking back over at the man, who was in the process of completing his next set. Blinking twice in rapid succession, Dinah activated the camera in the league issued surveillance contacts she took to wearing at all times. Selecting the camera function, she snapped off a few quick photos to run against the league database at a later time.

Turning the camera off, she turned her attention back to Ted, speaking more quietly this time, she said, "The league has started a covert operations team. Most the leaguer's partners are involved. This is Arrow's new protege."

Ted raised an eyebrow at the cold way she regarded her boyfriend, but didn't say anything. He knew better by now. Walking over to the younger girl, he reached out a hand, "Ted Grant," he said by way of introduction, "Any friend of Dinah's is a friend of mine."

Artemis paused for second, looking over to Dinah who nodded reassuringly at her, before gripping the man's hand. "Artemis," she said simply, purposefully leaving out her surname. If this guy was a cape, she didn't want to give anything away about her family history.

Dinah put a hand on the large man's broad shoulder and smiled happily at him, "Ted here taught me everything I know." she said, a look of nostalgic happiness on her face,

Ted had the decency to blush and rub shyly at the back of his neck, "I don't know about everything," he said, coughing slightly to distract from his coloring cheeks, "You were a quick study."

Dinah looked like she wanted to contradict that information, but was cut off by another male voice, "Look at you Jarhead, making friends." Both Artemis and Dinah turned to look at the speaker, and Artemis' mouth dropped open in shock. Walking towards them, sweat gleaming off his face and forearms, was the detective that had interviewed Barbara and Bette earlier that day.

"You?" she blurted out before she could stop herself, and then blushed as all three adults turned to look at her.

"Huh?" the detective said, looking at her a moment, before smiling, "Artemis right?" he asked, and she nodded dumbly, blushing at her outburst, spite of herself. The man took pity on her though and smiled gently, "How are miss Gordon and Miss Kane doing?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest,

She averted her eyes, mostly because when he crossed his arms like that it defined his torso in a very distracting way and her raging hormones were raising hell. "Fine" she said, "Their parents picked them up after they were taken to counselors office, they were gone the rest of the day," and ok, maybe she was a little bitter that her only friends in that damn school had abandoned her.

Not that she could blame them really, their friend had died.

Her sorrow must have shown on her face because the detective frowned as well, before he tried to lighten the mood, "Well," he said, a grin on his face, "Since I've got you here, I have a bone to pick with you little lady," she turned, her eyes widening in shock, and Dinah and Ted subtly began positioning themselves for an intercept if things suddenly got a little too real.

The man didn't pay them any mind, instead he just glared at her, and Artemis' fingers began to inch closer to the opening of her bag where she had a loaded crossbow waiting. Dinah's shoulder's tightened and her leg muscles flexed in preparation for a fight, while Ted's fingers cracked as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

Then, as quickly as the tension appeared, the detective smiled cheekily and Artemis felt herself visibly relax, along with the other two heroes.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me that Barbara was the commissioner's daughter?" he asked, raising his hands in an exasperated display of frustration. "He was waiting for me back at the precinct and I thought he was going to tear me to pieces!"

Artemis just looked at the man in incredulity, "How could you not know you were talking to your bosses kid."

The man just laughed nervously as he sheepishly rubbed at spot behind his ear, "Yeah, uh, I probably should have known that but still!"

"You been harassing kids frogman?" Ted snarked,

Dinah and Artemis shared a look, 'Frogman' the older woman mouthed at the archer, who just shrugged, equally as confused,

"Cute." he shot back, "No, work." His expression grew somber, "Homicide last night. The victim was a student at the school so my partner and I were there to interview some of the students."

"Oh, so you're a detective?" Dinah asked, and Percy turned to her,

"Yeah," he said, reaching out to shake her hand, "Percy Jackson, GCPD Major Crimes Division." he said with a smile.

Dinah returned the gesture with a charming smile of her own, "Dinah Lance," she said, gripping his hand tightly, "Nice to meet you."

There was an awkward moment, where neither party released the other's hand. They just stood there, smiling at one another. Artemis, brow quirked, met Ted's equally amused look. After another moment, Ted finally coughed into his hand and both Percy and Dinah released their grip, both blushing lightly.

"Was there something you needed kid? Or are you just here to flirt with my customers?" Ted asked, making an effort to hide his amusement and failing terribly. It took all of his concerted willpower not to laugh when Dinah's head snapped over to him, a glare to freeze hell over painting her expression.

Percy, looking equally embarrassed, quickly got to his reason for approaching the desk, "R-right, um I was just uh," he coughed into his hand a little in order to recompose himself, "Uh…do you have any chains I can use?"

"Ah" Ted said in understanding, before over to a supply closet behind the group. He spent a few seconds rummaging around before he closed the door, an old worn chain in his hands. "Here you go," he said, passing the item over to the detective, "Just return it before you leave,"

Percy just nodded and turned to go, pausing a little to look back at Artemis and Dinah, though his gaze did linger on Dinah longer than it did on Artemis, "Have a good one, ladies." he said, before he walked back to the free weights in the back.

Artemis watched him go, and then turned back to Dinah. Except the cave den mother wasn't looking at her, she watching Percy leave. She tried to cough to get her attention. That didn't work, so she jabbed the woman, hard, in the side.

The heroine yelped, more in surprise than in pain, and turned a glare at the smaller woman. Artemis matched the glare with one her own, "Are we going to train, or are we just going to stare at the detective's, admittedly very nice, ass?"

Dinah just glared at her, "Just change and get in the damn ring,"

Ted's laughter followed Artemis' smirking face into the woman's locker room.

When the girl was gone, Dinah turned her attention back to Ted, gesturing with her head in the direction of Percy, she asked, "You ever see him before?"

Ted shook his head, "Could be a coincidence, he does work at the one-seven and I know for a fact that the girl he said recommended my gym is the desk sergeant at that precinct. We could be worried over nothing…" he trailed off, his own gaze flickering over to the man in question, who was in the process of fitting several large weights into slots in the chains.

"However," Ted said, drawing Dinah's attention back to him, "even for a man his size, he should not be able to put up the kind of weight that he is putting up. He even went out of his way to bribe me out of mentioning that to anyone. Slipped me an extra two hundred to keep my mouth shut about him putting up inhuman weight."

"I'll make some calls, see if I can't figure something out."

Ted just smirked at her, "If you're looking for an excuse to hang around him little birdie, try finding something a bit better than that,"

Dinah just rolled her eyes, and flipped him a little bird of her own before following her student into the lockers.

BREAK

Percy released another grunt as he pulled himself back up to level with the bar. The chain around his waist jingling slightly as he did so, and the two pairs of forty-five pound weights tapped against his thighs. Holding his position at the bar another several seconds, he lowered himself back down, and repeated the process another four times, before gently lowering himself back down to the ground.

Bending over, hands on his knees, Percy tried to catch his breath. Pulling up the bottom of his hoodie, he dabbed at his face to relieve the excess of sweat. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he untied the chains around his waist, before dropping the added weight to the floor. He replaced the weights from where he had taken them, before collapsing down on a nearby weight bench with a groan. Reaching down, he grabbed hold of his gallon jug of water, and proceeded to drink half of the contents in one gulp.

In an instant, he felt reinvigorated, the soreness of his muscles began to dissipate, and he could literally feel the strength he had gained from his workout, pulse through him. Percy didn't really need to exercise; his divine blood meant that he would retain a healthy physique his entire life. But it was relaxing, and therapeutic. Standing up, he moved to leave the gym and make his way back towards the locker room, when the spectacle in the boxing ring in the middle of the gym caught his attention.

With a grunt of pain and a cry of frustration, Percy watched as Artemis tried to close in on Dinah. She tried to move in with a series of quick jabs, but her movement, while precise and clean, was obvious to read. Dinah was able to easily dodge out of the way of the blows, catching an errant arm that had been aimed for her head. Dinah twist the arm, before dropping to a knee and sweeping the legs out from underneath the younger girl.

Despite the loss, Percy was impressed. Both women were incredibly skilled, much more so than the average kickboxer or mixed martial artist. While perhaps not that surprising for Dinah, she was about his age after all, it was surprising to see a sixteen-year old with that kind of speed, agility, flexibility, and combat training. Percy crossed his arms in thought, but decided to file the information away for later when Artemis' annoyed shout cut across his thinking.

"Goddammit! What the hell am I doing wrong?" She shouted from her place on the mat.

Percy spoke up before his brain could stop his mouth, "You're telegraphing." he said, and both women turned their attention to him. Cursing his inability to keep his mouth shut, Percy resolutely kept his attention on Artemis, Dinah in a sports bra and training shorts was more than a little distracting at the moment.

"You're telegraphing your punches." He reiterated as he approached the side of the ring that Artemis was laying on.

Artemis narrowed her eyes at him, "Care to elaborate?"

Percy gestured to the ring, "May I?"

Artemis rolled her eyes but nodded anyways. Climbing up, Percy vaulted over the ropes and pulled Artemis to her feet. Gesturing to her, he said "Hit me."

Artemis shared a nervous glance with Dinah, but Percy just rolled his eyes. "Listen Artemis, I spent most of my childhood getting tossed around rings, just like this one, I know how to take a punch so just hit me."

"I'm not hitting a cop,"

"Oh please, what am I going to do? Arrest you? I am literally asking you to hit,"

"Pretty sure that doesn't matter,"

"Stop being a baby and just hit me."

Growling in annoyance, she snarled "Fine!" and looked at his right cheek, before cocking back and darting forward to punch him. She was definitely faster than anyone her age or even people twice her age had any right to be. But Percy still managed to duck under the incoming blow. As he ducked, he wrapped one large arm around her head and neck, while he tripped her with his forward foot. Following her momentum forward, Percy leveraged her so that she took the brunt of the blow. They collided in a heap on the floor, but Percy wasn't done. Curling one of his legs around hers, he pinned the other with his free leg and brought his other arm up and around in a chokehold around Artemis' head and neck.

He wasn't actually applying any pressure, this was meant as a learning experience, but she would definitely be able to tell that his arms were there, and had her in a submission position. He tapped the side of her head, and he could practically feel her teeth grinding in agitation.

Smirking Percy stood up, and extended a hand to help her off the ground. But she just smacked it away and stood up on her own.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Percy asked, "So what did you do wrong?"

She growled, before she actually stomped her foot on the ground in agitation. Percy blinked, overwhelmed by a sense of nostalgia. But was quickly brought out of it when she roared, "I have no idea. You keep saying that I'm telegraphing my attacks but I don't know what the hell that means." Percy remained calm while she screamed. It wasn't the first time some kid in training screamed at him; he was used to it.

"Ok, how about this. Where are you looking, before you strike?"

She rolled her eyes, but she answered, "Where I want to hit, where else would I look."

Percy just nodded, "And that's exactly what you're doing wrong."

That really threw her for a loop, so she looked behind her to Dinah for support but the woman was just smirking and nodding at her. "He's right." she said simply,

"That kind of thinking works fine against joe-schmo on the street, but if you ever fight someone who knows what they're doing? They're going beat your butt ten times out of ten when you're doing something like that. And that's just the big one. When you throw a punch coming right to left, you're positioning your entire body in the direction you're coming from, that tells me where I need to move in order to counter effectively."

She just threw her hands into the air in annoyance, "What the hell does any of that mean?"

Percy just smiled, which seemed to annoy her even more, "Ok," Percy said, trying to placate her, "Maintain eye-contact with your opponent, they can't read your eyes if you're constantly drawing their attention away. Furthermore, it's distracting, and unnerving. For an untrained fighter, their instinct will be to look away, or divert their attention elsewhere, which gives you an opening, but more importantly you don't leave yourself open."

She just huffed in annoyance, "Why am I even listening to you? I've been fighting since I was a kid, there is nothing you could teach me that I don't already know."

Percy raised an eyebrow over her shoulder at the pretty brunette behind Artemis. Dinah just sighed and hid her face behind her hands. Shrugging Percy was about to respond, when his phone started to ring through his earbuds, giving Dinah one last friendly smile, he turned, pulling his earbuds out of his ear, and taking the phone out of its sleeve. Pulling it up, Percy couldn't help but smile at the name he saw. Sliding a finger across the touch screen, Percy brought the phone up to his ear.

"Jimmy Olson, I've been trying to reach you all day. How ya been buddy?"

_**AN: **_**Alright, so I'm going to address a few of the messages I've been getting; this story is very AU. Yes, Percy is a demigod. Yes he has his powers. Yes he will be using them. No, he won't be a superhero. Yes, the events of the books did happen, in a manner of speaking. Yes the events of the books happened in the same world as the one Percy currently resides in. He's not a dimensional traveler or a man out of time or anything like that. No, I will not be unloading all of that information all at once, that wouldn't be fun for anyone. I've been piecemealing hints and teasing certain things about Percy's history and what led up to where he is now but you will have to wait and see. All that being said, all of the feedback I've been getting has been great and I appreciate all of your support. This has probably been my favorite story to write, I just love the mystery genre in general and this has been fun to put together. Should have OP and SOS chapters out soon, HBP has been a bit of a bastard to get going but I promise it's coming. Thanks again for all the love you guys. See you soon,**

**Love,**

**LilDB**


	5. Different Perspectives

As soon as Percy was out of ear shot, Dinah turned a glare on her young student, "That was a little rude, don't you think? He was only trying to help?"

Artemis snorted in derision, "Help? What could he possibly help me with," she lowered her voice, "We're freaking superheroes, he's a cop, pretty sure I can take care of myself just fine,"

Dinah, who was no longer watching her student just said, "Didn't stop him from knocking you flat on your ass though," and she missed whatever Artemis' comeback was going to be, as she hopped out of the ring and ran to her bag. She fished through quickly before she found what she was looking for, taking the earpiece out, she stuck it in her ear. Syncing it up with the lenses in her eyes, she synchronized with Wayne Tech satellites and got a patch into Percy's side of the conversation he was having on the phone.

Was it an invasion of privacy? Absolutely. Should she be doing this? Absolutely not. But there was a lot about this mysterious man that was just not sitting right with her for whatever reason. For one, she found it suspicious that he just happened to wander into the one gym in all of Gotham that catered to heroes. For another, he had a run in with two of the young proteges for prominent leaguers. Batgirl and Artemis.

That, and if what Ted had been telling her was true, this guy was probably a meta, or at least enhanced in some way. Then there was the way he fought, it had been quick, but his single-handed smack down of Artemis spoke to training. She had seen the tattoos on his arms, and she recognized military ink when she saw it, John Stewart had similar designs and she had seen them on Ted before as well. But military training alone didn't allow someone to counter someone who had not only been trained by former shadow operatives, but Green Arrow AND herself.

All in all, there was more to Percy Jackson than he was letting on and Dinah was going to figure out exactly who he was, and what he was doing in Gotham.

She heard the click in her ear as her earpiece connected, and she heard the man's deep voice begin to rumble in her ear,

"_Jimmy Olson, I've been trying to reach you all day. How ya been buddy?"_

Jimmy Olson? Wasn't that Clark's photographer friend from the Planet? What the hell was Percy doing talking to him?

"_That's great to hear man! Hey listen, I've got a bone to pick with you, why the hell did you use that picture from the arms bust for the photo? I looked like I had spent the last three months living out of my car!"_

Percy was laughing, and Dinah fought to ignore the slight tingling she got from the sound, focusing on the conversation,

"_No, no man I'm only teasing you, believe me I am more than flattered that Lois decided to write a story on me. It was beautiful and did me way more justice than I deserve. Hey man, I appreciate that. No thank you, between you, me, and Lois, we made sure a lot of bad people got put away for good. Yes, yes the boy scout helped too. What do you mean pot meet kettle? Oh wow ok, I see how it goes, you know if we're going to go down that road then I just might have to ring up that pretty girl down in the sports column and tell her about that night at Bigsies. Yeah that's what I thought. So how's Lois doing? I tried to get a hold of her earlier but I'd have better luck trying to track down Batman._

Lois? As in Lois Lane? As in Clark's Lois? Just who the hell was this guy?

"_Ah, well that makes sense, I'm pretty sure if she stopped working she'd take over the world so maybe it's in everyone's best interests. Yeah for sure man, well listen, unfortunately I didn't just call to catch up, I need to pick your brain for a minute. Yeah, yeah, I picked up a case literally my first night here, didn't have my GCPD badge or ID yet. Now you know the score, can't talk to anyone about this yet, but you get a full run of the notes when this is over. Yes I realize this is Gotham and not Metropolis but this is going to be a big one, and I think you're going to want to hear me out on this. Alright, what do you know about the St. Cloud family?" _

There was silence as Dinah listened in on Percy. She could hear the rustling of clothing as the man changed and the occasional hum of agreement or acknowledgment but for the most part, the man was silent. After a little while, the man sighed in disappointment,

"_So you don't have anything for me then? No, no, I appreciate it man, we're just banging our heads against the wall here and I was hoping I might get lucky and the girl's parents were, I don't know, caught in some kind of Eyes Wide Shut party with known mobsters. Yes I understand that I'm hopelessly optimistic, it's one of my most redeeming qualities. Alright, well is there anyone you can think of in Gotham who might have some kind of beef with the St. Clouds, or even just might have known them? Wait, say that again, sorry I'm in the locker room and the reception's kind of spotty. Selina Kyle? Why does that sound familiar?"_

Dinah nearly choked on her spit. Either this man had terrible luck, or something else was going on. There was no other way he would be casually running into so many different capes. Then again, this was Gotham, most of the big players did run in similar circles.

"_Oh that's right. Wait why is she out of prison? Of-fucking-course, she did. Alright Jimmy, well thanks for the help man, I appreciate it. Next time you and Lois are in town, let me know, I'd love to meet up for a few drinks. Alright, you too buddy, take it easy," _

Dinah heard the connection end, and she pulled the communicator out of her ear. She sighed, that hadn't answered anything, only that Percy Jackson was very shockingly well connected for a young detective. Still, something about the man was rubbing her as off. You didn't just happen to run into this many people involved with the league by sheer bad luck. She wanted to run his name across the league database when she got back to the watchtower.

She was pulled from her thoughts when the man reemerged from the gym. He didn't say anything but he did throw a wave in her direction before stopping back at the desk to speak with Ted. He passed over the chain he'd been using and laughed at something the older man said. With a wave goodbye to the gym owner, the strange detective left the building. Dinah ran a hand through her hair, she didn't know what it was, but things didn't add up around him, and she was going to figure it out.

As soon as she calmed down the still pissed off archer standing in the ring.

BREAK

Percy woke up early the following morning. He went for a quick run, before taking a shower, changing into one of the few clean dress shirts he had left, he put on his black sport coat and left to grab a table at the diner for him and Montoya. He had been scrambling to find an apartment when he got his transfer notice, and had ended up with an apartment almost thirty minutes away from his department, granted he hadn't known what precinct he'd be in but still.

He found the diner without much difficulty, and was pleased to see that for the most part it was still empty. Despite having spent much of his youth in New York City, large groups of people in compact spaces made him nervous and so having the diner relatively empty would be a promising start to the day.

Pulling up to the curb, Percy parked the car at the furthest end of the street, parking far enough along where he could pull away unimpeded if the need should arise. Checking his watch, he saw that he was a bit early, about fifteen minutes, so he decided to just head in and snag a table.

The bell to the diner chimed lightly as Percy pushed through the door. The inside was about what he expected, a proto-typical diner, with booths and bar, and only a handful of pictures hanging on the wall. A sign by the door told him to seat himself, so Percy to a glance around before snagging a booth in the corner of the room, facing the entrance and backed up against a rear wall. Sliding into the booth, Percy chose the far side, so that he was looking at the door. Both as a precaution, and to make it easier for his partner to spot when she came in.

He had barely been in his seat for a minute before a waitress approached, a woman in her mid-thirties with dirty blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail, there was circles under her hazel eyes and in spite of the fact that she looked dead on her feet, she mustered a smile for the young detective.

"Morning hon," she said, pulling out her pad "Can I get ya started on anything, coffee? Juice?"

"Coffee…" Percy said, pausing slightly to read the name on her tag, "Erika, please. And can I get another for the table too, I'm waiting on my partner." She just smiled and nodded before heading off to the back. In a flash, the smell of roasted coffee beans was slid under his nose as Erika dropped off two large cups of piping hot coffee on the table.

"Someone's on the ball this morning," Percy said with a smile, thanking Erika as she pulled a pen and pad out of her apron.

"Someone around here has to be," she responded with a little smirk, "Can I get you started on anything while you wait on your partner,"

Percy just shot her a bemused look, "I don't know, I haven't even had a chance to look at my menu yet," he said before looking briefly down at the menu and making a quick decision, "Tell you what, what do you recommend, that's heavy as hell." Percy wasn't going to mention just yet that, due to his divine bloodline, he had a rather advanced metabolism, he needed to ingest a hell of a lot of calories during a day just to stay healthy, and that wasn't even counting what he needed to compensate for what he burned off during his workouts.

"Let me guess," Erika started, a wry grin on her face, "You a cop?" she asked, a rather heavy Bostonian accent forcing its way into her voice,

In response, Percy just reached into shirt and pulled the chain holding his badge out to hang free on his chest.

Erika just nodded at him, "I know exactly what you need," she said, writing something down and before point her pen at the empty seat across from Percy, "Know what your partner will be having?"

"Not a clue, if I say it's Renee Montoya would that help at all?" he asked,

The waitress laughed at that, snapping her notebook closed, "I've got it covered officer. Be right back."

Percy watched as she disappeared behind a door to the kitchen. Reaching out, he snagged hold of the coffee and pulled it closer. Then, he reached over to the back of the table and grabbed hold of the small bowl of flavored creamers. Percy wasn't picky about what his coffee tasted like, so long as it didn't taste like coffee, so he just grabbed five of the small containers, and began ripping the tops of and emptying the contents into his coffee. Stirring what could only be called Percy's concoction, he watched as the inky black turned into a light brown.

Bringing it to his lips, he sighed in delight, it was garbage coffee, made only slightly better by the sugary mess he had dumped into it, and Percy loved it.

He placed the cup back on the table and reached down to his bag that Percy had placed on the ground. Opening it up, Percy retrieved his murderbook, and began leafing through some of his notes. He had spent most of his night yesterday, determining if he would be able to potentially have a sit-down with Selina Kyle. He had been in luck. Gotham was old, almost as old as New York, and that meant that much of Gotham's elite comprised of old money. Families that had lived in Gotham for generations and held the lion's share of the wealth; and if there was thing Percy knew about old money, it was that it loved to show off.

Apparently, Bruce Wayne had decided, spur of the moment, that he was going to throw a fundraiser event for some of the intercity school districts that were the most at risk. Certainly, a good cause, but Percy couldn't help but scoff at the fact that Wayne apparently had the throw away money to just decide, overnight, to rent out the most prestigious art gallery in town and orchestrate an entire fundraising event.

What this meant for him and Montoya, was that if they were going to have an opportunity to try and meet and question Selina Kyle, this was likely going to be it. She was a prominent art collector when she wasn't stealing high value artifacts, and since the fundraiser was an auction of several high-end pieces from the gallery's reserves, Percy would bet his yearly salary she would be there.

There was a reason Percy was focusing so much on this angle. Percy normally didn't like to speculate his cases, Roger, his first partner, had told him when he was still a junior detective, that when you started to speculate you start to shift the narrative. Essentially, it was a warning to wait until there were more facts present before you began working on a motive for a murder. Motive, was usually one of the last links put together during an investigation, because it was easy for an investigator to try and shift the facts and evidence to fit a certain narrative or pattern.

Percy was normally good about waiting until he at least the autopsy and initial forensics reports were done, but something that their lone witness in the alley had mentioned had stuck with him. Why, after he had shot the girl, did their guy lose his temper so badly that he kicked the corpse? Sure, he might have been pissed that she had kicked him in the balls, who wouldn't be? But to not only kill the girl, but to disrespect the corpse in such a vile why spoke to something else, and that was before you factored in all of the other evidence.

Everything about this murder spoke to premeditation. It spoke to careful planning, but there was just something about all of this that didn't seem right. Percy wasn't convinced that the goal of the killer had been to only shoot young miss St. Cloud. If it had been, why not just take her out as she was leaving school? There were enough tall buildings around the block with an open view of the main courtyard and gate that anyone with even a simple hunting rifle, could probably make the shot. Then there was their dead driver. Why bother killing him, and assuming his position if he was just trying to kill the girl? No, something else was going on, he just couldn't figure out what the hell it was.

The chiming of the bell at the front entrance drew Percy out of his thoughts, looking up he raised a lazy hand in the air and waved over his partner. She caught his wave, and wandered over, a smile on her face and a slight bounce in her step.

"Well," Percy said, "It certainly looks like someone had a good night,"

Montoya just shrugged noncommittally, "Might have," she said as she took her seat opposite Percy. She immediately set about fixing her coffee, though she used considerably less sugary creamer than Percy did. "You already order?" she asked as she took a sip,

Percy nodded, "Waitress recognized your name, said she would take care of it. You come here often then?"

Montoya nodded enthusiastically, "Found this place when I was still a patrol officer, have been coming here ever since,"

"And we like it that way," said Erika, reappearing with a tray in her hands. She sat a large plate of corned beef hash, complete with two eggs, over easy in front of Percy and an enormous platter of pancakes in front of Montoya. "Good to see you back Renee," Erika said to Montoya, "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry about Allen."

Montoya's mood visibly darkened at that, but nodded her thanks at the woman all the same. The waitress told them to grab her if they needed anything before, she left them to their meals. Percy set about opening his eggs, and mixing it into his hash. He didn't say anything about he had heard, it wasn't his place to ask and if Montoya thought he should know, she would tell him.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Allen was my last partner," she said, "He was killed a few months ago."

Percy put his fork down and stared at his partner, he didn't bother with sympathy. He had been in her shoes before, he knew she didn't want it or need it. "How'd it happen?" he asked,

Her hands were still wrapped around her mug, and she was gripping it so tightly her fingers were starting to turn white, "You ever hear of the Black Spider?" she asked, and Percy nodded. The Black Spider was a pretty well-known hitman with known connections to both the Maroni Family. "Well me and Allen were working a case when the bastard ambushed us. Nearly emptied a clip into me but Allen was faster, managed to gank him first. It was a good shoot, but we needed the bullet for the I.A. dogs, but someone beat us to it."

Montoya was shaking slightly as she spoke. but Percy just let her talk, it was clear that she needed to get all of this out in the open. "When we went to forensics to see if they had pulled the bullet from the scene, they couldn't find it. Well we didn't buy that for a second so we went back to the scene, snuck in late when the patrolies were all gone. We found the impact site, and the hole the bullet made in the wall but we couldn't find the bullet, someone had snagged it."

She took a sip of her coffee and tried to steady her breathing, "Turns out, one of techs, Jim Corrigan, stole it." She spat the name out like a foul-tasting grape, "Bastard had the nerve of selling it online. Well he didn't expect that we would figure out who the seller was, when we confronted him about it…" she trailed off, her voice choking slightly as her entire body shook in rage.

It was silent for a minute, and Percy just let her compose herself before he spoke, "You get the bastard?"

Montoya nodded bitterly, "Yeah we found him, son of a bitch tried to run but I found him hiding out in the warehouse district, when I cornered him, he tried to gun me down too, but I was faster." She was staring hard at Percy, daring him to challenge her statement. Percy just nodded at her, ultimately, he didn't find himself caring all that much if it had been a clean shoot or not, as far as he was concerned the son of a bitch deserved it.

"Let him rot," he said simply.

She kept staring at him, searching his face for something. When she finally spoke again, her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, "Listen Jackson, I like you. You seem like you have your shit together and that you're serious about your job." Percy looked at her speculatively but allowed her to continue, knowing that she was going somewhere with this, "But I need to be honest with you." Her tone gained a tight, poisonous edge to it, "This city is sick. All those rumors, about Gotham being a haven for corruption and slime? Well it's all true, doubly so when it comes to the department. Every other blueback is on somebody else's payroll, and it's dog eat dog. So I'm going to make something very clear to you; if I find out you're dirty, if you add to the problems of my city in any way, it won't be that Bat you have to worry about. It'll be me."

Her eyes blazing, and the ferocity behind her statement gave Percy genuine goosebumps. He wasn't intimidated, he had faced down far worse than the detective in his life, but he was still moved by the passion in her voice. She held genuine love for not just her job but for the city, and in that moment, Percy realized that he had made the right move in coming to Gotham, in spite of the situation a smile made its way onto his face. Here was somewhere that he could make a difference, where the part of him that screamed out at the injustices of the world could fight back in a meaningful way.

He kept her stare, still smiling, "The innermost circle of hell is reserved for betrayers, mutineers." His expression changed steely to match Montoya's, "There is little I resent more on this world, than those who turn their backs on their comrades for personal gain. You have nothing to worry about from me."

Montoya just looked at him for several more seconds, dissecting his expression and reading his eyes. She had always been good at reading people, it was part of why she was so good at her job, and she prided herself on it, but she didn't need to be good at reading people to understand that Percy was telling the truth. She had only known him a short time, but he was the type to wear his heart and emotions on his sleeve, and she knew that he was honest. Satisfied, she nodded, and asked, doing everything in power to remain stern and serious, "But I have one more question to ask you," she paused for dramatic effect, "Did you really just quote Pirates of Caribbean to make your point?"

Percy just laughed, and awkwardly rubbed at spot behind his ear, "Maybe," he admitted. With her piece said, Montoya set about doctoring her stack of hotcakes. Percy himself began digging into his mountain of hash. As he ate, he considered his next step. Montoya had just dumped a lot on him, it was a show of trust. She hadn't needed to tell him about Allen, but she did, because she wanted their still very young partnership to work. He sighed as he ate, he knew he should give something as well, it was a necessary step. Swallowing a mouthful, he dabbed his mouth with a napkin and steeled his nerves. He had made an active effort to not think about Roger or Metropolis since the attack, but maybe this would be good for both of them. Bottling up his emotions had never worked well for him, and he needed to show Montoya the same kind of trust she had shown him. Besides, it wasn't like what had happened was all that secretive, it was all public knowledge, it was just something he didn't like thinking about.

He had wanted to ease into the conversation, gently guide things the way he wanted it to go. Unfortunately, Percy was far from eloquent, and the signals from his brain never quite made it to his mouth, so what ended up coming out was, "Superman killed my last partner."

Montoya choked on her mouthful of pancakes, and began hacking and coughing violently. Pounding her chest with her fist, she eventually got her coughing under control, "Metro!" She said in surprise, and Percy winced, "The fuck was that?" she demanded,

Percy groaned and hurried his face in his hands, "Sorry Monty," he said apologetically, "I'm uh, not that great at this sort of thing."

Montoya wiped a few stinging tears from her eyes, and took a small sip of her coffee, "You want to run that by me again, because it sounded like you said that SUPERMAN, killed your partner."

Percy's expression morphed, changing from apologetic to mournful. "No," he corrected, "No, you heard right."

It was Montoya's turn to place her utensils down, and give Percy her direct attention, "Explain," was all she said.

Percy nodded, steadying himself as he tried to get his thoughts in order. "I don't know how much they told you when we got put together," Percy started, his attention on his half-eaten plate, it was a rhetorical question and Montoya knew that Percy wasn't expecting an answer, "But I was in Metropolis for the attack." He paused as his right hand started seizing up, it had been doing that since his return from overseas. Gripping his right hand in his left, he focused his attention on the shaking appendage and simply allowed the words to flow.

"It was a Sunday, end of one of our shift schedules. Roger's wife, Kendra, always liked to have a big dinner together at their place on the night of the last day of our shifts, she liked to call them family dinners." Percy smiled, a sad and melancholic expression, "I was running late, had spent a little longer at the station finishing up our report," Percy snorted a little, "Roger liked to call it me, earning my keep as the 'young buck in the precinct', and always made me do our follow-ups but really, he was just being lazy." He had managed to get his shaking hand calmed down enough that Percy could grip his coffee mug, the warmth of the drink had a calming effect.

"It's hard to describe what it's like, you know, when he fights something." There was no need to explain who HE was, Montoya knew who Percy was talking about. "Everything is always so calm and then it's not. It's cliché but it really is like someone just flips a switch. One second everything is normal, and then the next the entire world is shaking, windows are breaking, cars are being thrown around." Percy shook his head like a dog drying itself, trying to clear the images away from his vision,

"I was only a block away from their apartment when it started, I'll never forget it; it was sunny, hot as hell, we were in the middle of a heat wave, and then suddenly the building next to me just exploded." He laughed, hallow and mirthless, "It's actually kind of funny in a sick kind of way, how well conditioned Metroplites are to those kinds of things. Sure, there's panic, and confusion, but it's controlled, you know? Everybody just understands that they need to get out of the hot zone and to the bunkers as quickly as possible."

"Bunkers?" Montoya interrupted, confused.

Percy just nodded, "Yeah, I guess it's not super well known but a few years ago the governor authorized a massive government grant to Metropolis to build doomsday shelters,"

Montoya's eyes widened in understanding, "Is that because of-"

"Doomsday, yeah," Percy confirmed, "There's about a dozen spread out throughout the city, and there are actual drills the city runs on a monthly basis so everyone always knows where the nearest bunker is. Anyways, people are bolting to the nearest shelter, and, well, I'm not proud of how I reacted," Percy said and he genuinely looked a little ashamed of himself, "I should have been working with the patrolies on crowd control, but I was too worried about Roger and his family. See there are supposed to be these sirens that go off when Blue is destroying the city, but they weren't working for whatever reason. So instead of working the crowd, I just took off on foot for Roger."

"You find him?" Montoya asked, her own food forgotten as she became engrossed in the story.

Percy nodded, "Yeah, I found them. They had been hearing the commotion and were in the process of leaving when…when the building started to collapse." His fingers clenched painfully, and it took almost all of his concentration to mind his strength and not break the mug in his hand.

"I didn't find out what happened until later; Big Blue got knocked clean through the first floor of the building, and took out almost every base-level support structure on his way through. We were on the seventh floor; it wasn't like they could just jump." Montoya didn't miss how he used 'they' instead of 'we', but set it aside for the moment, "It was like the walls were just crumbling away. I remember the floor shifting under our feet, and then the westward wall just peeling away."

His gaze turned haunted, as some of the light in Percy's otherwise very bright orbs dimmed, and in an instant, Montoya watched a man age in front of her, as Percy's outward demeanor became similar to someone whose age was far more accelerated than his twenty-six years.

"Kendra and the kids had been against the wall when it fell away." He said, "One second they were there, and then they just weren't." Percy inhaled deeply. Having never actually spoken aloud what happened, what he was experiencing now was both tremendously therapeutic, and horrendously painful all at once. The wall he been determined to build around that nightmare was collapsing and the flood of emotions was rapidly becoming overwhelming, but he pressed on.

"I'm no stranger to death. You live the kind of life that I have and you become, I don't know, desensitized to it. But it's different when it's a civilian you know? When it's another cop, or a member of your fireteam, it hurts but it's not as shocking right? Because that's the job and that's the risk that comes with it, but when it's someone totally innocent like that…"

Montoya understood him completely. Living in Gotham, especially in the era of the Bat, she had seen her fair share of death. The loss of life was always tragic, but Percy was right, when someone lost their life in the line of duty, it was tragic, yes, but it was an unfortunate risk. A risk that they all understood when they took on the job. But civilians never agreed to those risks. They were forced into situations that threatened their lives by beings with powers that, prior to maybe twenty years, most thought of as little more than sheer fantasy. It was unfair, and all the more tragic that someone should lose their life because of the actions of beings well-beyond their control or understanding.

"Part of me hopes that Roger didn't see it happen, didn't have to see his wife and children sucked out of the building and fall to their deaths, but I'm sure he did." Percy continued, ignorant to Montoya's own internal monologue. "I guess it's just lucky that he probably didn't have to think about it for very long. The ceiling collapsed. Buried him. I don't really remember what happened after that, hell, I don't even know how I made it out of that mess in one piece. I remember the world shaking, I remember the impact, and then nothing. I woke up in Metro General a few days later."

He fell silent after that, as did Montoya. Percy didn't expect her to say anything, she didn't need to. Percy hadn't shared what had happened as some sort of sick competition of, "who's had the worse life," but rather to illustrate his desire to show to her that he wanted to trust her, and that she could trust him.

With the mood at the table becoming depressing as all hell, Percy picked up his fork again, and started in on his cold hash. They ate in silence for a few minutes, both just digesting the emotional release they had experienced. After a while, Montoya spoke up, "Ok, I'm sorry, I hate to bring it back up but there's something about your story that's bugging me."

Percy just nodded at her as he took another bite, indicating he was fine with answering whatever questions she had. "You said that Superman killed your partner, and yeah, it was his body going through the support pillars that caused the building to collapse, but I find it pretty hard to believe that Superman, of all people, would willingly be tossed through a building."

Percy nodded, having expected the question. It was a valid point, one shared by most of Metropolis, if not by the Metropolis Police Department.

"How well do you know your geography?" Percy asked, a little abruptly.

Montoya just looked at him in utter confusion, but Percy just rolled his eyes as he took another bite of food, and made a 'just answer it' gesture with his fork.

"Same as anyone I guess?" she asked more than said, still bewildered by the seeming change in topic.

Percy shook his head, "Alright, what's north of Metropolis?" he asked,

And immediately, Montoya thought she knew where he was going with this; but she decided to play along, because Percy had gained a rather vicious gleam in his eye, "I don't know," she answered,

"Alright," Percy said, "How about south of Metropolis, or east or west?" he asked,

Again, she didn't know.

"Metropolis, is in upstate New York, the nearest town, is nearly one hundred miles away. Metropolis is further north than Toronto, it's basically a small isolated haven, in the middle of Canadian wilderness." Percy said, his tone hard, "For fifty miles in any direction, there is nothing but wilderness. And only a few thousand miles to the east? The Atlantic, goddamn, Ocean."

"Metro-" Montoya tried to say, but Percy cut across her, slamming a palm down on the table with such a loud smack, that the other inhabitants in the diner all turned to look, but Percy ignored them.

"So why the hell," Percy ground out, "Why in the name of all that is holy, does that lunatic insist on fighting these world-ending psychopaths in the middle of the fucking city?" he hissed, Montoya tried to interject, but Percy had built up a full head of steam by now, "The man can circumnavigate the globe in like a minute, so why doesn't he just lead those lunatics away from the city?" Montoya didn't even bother trying to answer, she knew it was rhetorical, "Does he honestly think that those guys are interested in anything other than him?" he asked, "We aren't talking about gangbanger or bank robbers, we are talking about beings that can fight him on an even playing field. They would follow him, so why doesn't he leave? I'll tell you." he said, not even bothering to wait for an answer,

"It's because he's arrogant. I don't think he's even aware of it. Honestly, I can't even really blame him, if I could do the things he could, I probably would be too, but the fact remains that he spends so much time solving problems faster than we can even blink, that he doesn't think for even a second, that any fight he's in would last long enough to bring about the kind of destruction that comes from his kind of fights. But the fact remains that this isn't the first-time half of the city has been destroyed from his fights. It's so damn infuriating, how many more people have to die before he figures it out? How many more times do the people of Metropolis have to pick up the pieces? SO, to answer your question, no Superman didn't kill Roger. He didn't kill Kendra, or Anthony, or Abigail. But his sheer arrogance, his inability to see the consequences of his actions got them killed, and to me, that's the same thing."

Percy was panting in rage. It was a shocking sight, in the short time that Montoya had known him, Percy had appeared to be a very relaxed man, not one to get angered easily, or at least have a solid hold on it. But right now, it like looking at an enraged beast, his lips were curled back into what Montoya could only call a snarl, and a large vein on his neck was pulsing. It was unnerving, and not for the first time, Montoya thought that his eyes were literally glowing. Out of the corner of her eye, Montoya would swear that the water in the untouched cups on the table, was shifting slightly.

Her fear was showing on her face, and quick as a flash, Percy's entire demeanor changed. The glow in his eyes disappeared and the hardened edges of his features softened, and he became acutely aware of the aura that he was emanating.

"Sorry," he apologized immediately, once he had gotten himself under control. "I'm sorry, it's just so frustrating. I know Gotham has had its problems but, I can't remember it ever having to rebuild. Metropolis has had to literally be rebuilt, five times in the last eight years. I don't know," he sighed, rubbing at the back of his ear, "I just hate it, it's all so unnecessary. All the fighting, the death, the destruction, it's just too much."

"Wow.." was all that Montoya could say, and really what else was there for her to say. She couldn't remember anyone, outside talking heads on news networks, ever speak so critically or harshly about the Man of Steel.

Percy looked chagrined, "Sorry," he said, "It's just something that's been bothering me for a while, and talking like that in Metropolis is…not a very good idea."

"No, no, it's fine," Montoya was quick to amend. She didn't want him thinking he wasn't allowed to speak his mind around her. "It's just…I'm surprised. You really don't like him, do you?"

"I respect what he tries to do and what he has done," Percy was quick to say, "He's a symbol of hope for millions, if not billions of people. Many of whom have never had any reason to be hopeful before. He's done this world a lot of good, and he's saved the planet more times than we can count. It's not that I don't understand and appreciate that. But his actions, or his lack of action, have consequences, and, well I think he's brought as many problems as he's solved. How many world ending catastrophes have come about directly because of him, or any of the other big-name leaguers? It seems like every other month there's some kind of a new crisis or catastrophe." He just sighed in frustration. "I don't know, maybe I'm just jaded, but how long can this game go on? They make a mess and we have to clean it up."

Montoya didn't say anything. For the first time since they had met, she found herself pretty staunchly disagreeing with her partner. The Bat, hell the entire league, had done more for the safety and security of the planet than she could ever hope to do. It wasn't like she couldn't understand where Percy was coming from, and this talk had certainly been something of an eye-opener for her. Sure, she had seen the news coverage of what usually happened in Metropolis, but given the kind of hell that existed in Gotham on a daily basis, it had never really fazed her. But hearing a first-hand account of the kinds of things Percy had experienced in the city, gave her some perspective. If nothing else, however, it simply reaffirmed her own feelings on the League.

Jackson hadn't been in Gotham before the Bat. Had never experienced what it was like. When Batman and the rest of the League began to arise, the citizens of Gotham had been, for the first time, able to leave the house at night, and not be terrified of something horrible happening. She didn't think Jackson could understand or appreciate that, but she kept the thought to herself. It wasn't like the man didn't have a point after all. She had lost enough friends to the clown to know that some of these 'super villains' lived only as a challenge to their moral foils. But she felt that the good they brought about, more than outweighed the bad. But it wasn't her place, or her job to try and convince her partner of that. But still, it bothered her. She had experienced similar sentiments when she had worked with Bullock, and a part of her just couldn't comprehend how someone couldn't be pro-capes.

"So, do you not like any of the capes?" she found herself asking before she could stop herself,

Percy didn't respond immediately. Mostly because he wasn't all that certain as to the answer to the question himself. "I wouldn't say that." He eventually said, "I think they are inspiring to be sure. Especially the ones who can't, you know, bench an aircraft carrier. Anyone who is willing to put their life on the line for the sake of keeping people safe is worthy of respect to me. Even more so when that person is squaring off against something that could toss them into the sun. But they're not infallible. They make mistakes and to me that's the difference. When they screw up, when they make a mistake, the consequences are so much worse than if you or I screw up. Who holds them responsible? Where is the accountability? The League? I'm supposed to trust the league to police themselves? I'm sorry but I just can't do that."

Montoya couldn't help but get a little offended on behalf of the league. It was an irrational response, and yes, a part of her knew and understood that, but who was he to sit there and criticize the people that had saved the world more times than could be comprehended? How could he sit there and armchair quarterback the men and women who put it all on the line, every single day, fighting against the kinds of evils and terrors of the world that Montoya herself couldn't really imagine.

"So, what?" She asked, and even she was a little taken aback by the bite to her words, "You think you could do better?"

She wasn't sure what she had been expecting to that. A joke maybe, or maybe a sniping remark of his own. What she had not been expecting, was the look of defeat, and utter self-loathing that came over his visage. His eyes regained that haunted expression they had held earlier. He looked like a defeated man.

"No," he said, "No I guess not."

She didn't respond to that. What more was there to say?

They sat in silence for a while, neither talking, and both lost in thoughts. Montoya, thinking over the revelations her partner had revealed, and feeling just a touch guilty that she had unintentionally stirred up some very deep-seated, and likely terrible memories in Percy. While the man himself sat there, lost in his own memories. Memories of a time he had tried so desperately to forget. Memories of a life he had lost, because of his own inability to take action when it mattered most.

Checking his watch, Percy started, "Gods," he muttered to himself, and the strange curse brought Montoya out of her own thoughts, "We're going to be late if we stay here any longer." He said, "We need to head in." Montoya nodded. Percy pulled a few bills out of his pocket and deposited the payment on the table, waving off Montoya's offer to split the bill. Standing up the pair quietly exited the diner, each lost in their own thoughts, and made their way to the precinct to clock-in.

It was going to be a very busy day.

**AN: Hope you guys are staying as safe and healthy as possible right now! This was a bit of a lore dump chapter, but it was necessary. That and I just thoroughly enjoy character interactions. Heavy action is fun for a bit, but my favorite sections of any stories are when the characters just sit and talk with one another. Thanks for the love and support, y'all have been awesome! And I hope every one of ya makes it through these trying times with as little trouble as possible. **

**Love **

**LilDB**


	6. Discovery

Percy bit back a snarl, trying to control himself as he slammed the phone back down on the receiver. This had been the umpteenth time he had attempted to get a hold of the St. Clouds. But just like the several calls he had made the day previous, he had been redirected. It took almost all of his willpower not to shout, "Their daughter is dead, you gutless worm!" at the annoying attendant he had been talking to.

"No luck with the parents?" Montoya asked from across the desk, though the question was mostly rhetorical.

"No," Percy spat out, "If I get the ring-around one more godsdamned time, I'm just going to tell whatever pissant answers that Silver's dead and leave it at that,"

Montoya snorted, her own phone pressed to an ear, "That's a great way to get put on probation on your first week Metro,"

Percy chose not to respond. He was very quickly developing a foul mood. His talk with Montoya at breakfast had dredged up a lot of feelings and memories that he would have much preferred remain buried. Add up the mounting frustration that he was still unable to get in touch with the St. Clouds, and he was not a happy camper.

Montoya sensed her partner's developing foul mood, and placed her phone back down. "Well, I got some good news at least." She gestured to her phone, "Got a few messages from the morgue and the lab. They're waiting on one of us before they make the cut, and the lab got some of the results back from the alley." She laughed lightly, "Guess Gordon wasn't kidding when he said he'd put his foot to their throat to get our results back."

Percy nodded, his mood lifting a little. That was indeed all good news. In a city like Gotham, autopsies, or cuts, could take days, before they were ready to be done. With the sheer backlog of bodies that needed to be cut, and the small staff that often worked in the morgues, it was an uphill battle. That was nothing on waiting for lab results. Essentially being a first-come-first-serve basis, Percy had once waited nearly two weeks before he had been able to access forensics reports from a crime scene.

"You thinking we split up?" Percy asked, "One of us takes the cut, the other takes the lab?"

Montoya hummed her agreement, "I'll go to the cut if you want to handle the nerds,"

Percy nodded, before standing up and grabbing his coat. Putting it on, he reached down onto his desk and retrieved his pistol and replaced his badge around his neck.

"You know where you're going?" Montoya asked, grabbing her own belongings, before joining Percy as they descended out of the bullpen.

"Yeah," he said, "It's attached to One Police Plaza, right?"

Montoya nodded her head in agreement. She didn't say anything for a second, as her face scrunched up slightly in thought. She thought that the two of them should talk about what happened in the diner. There had been this tension between them since their talk. She blamed herself a little for it. She had overreacted a bit when Percy had been talking about the league. Sure, they hadn't shouted at one another or anything like that, but there was a definite lacking to the casual camaraderie they had been building between them.

Percy was sharing similar sentiments. It was clear to him that his partner didn't hold the same feelings and hesitation toward capes that he did. He could understand it, it was hard not to idolize figures that were larger than life, and there was no discounting the leagues track record for saving the world. But she also had never lived that life. To be fair, Percy hadn't strictly lived that life either, but it was close enough that he felt justified in his beliefs. Any time he fought something from his world, Percy had always done everything in his power to minimize the damage to mortal life and property. He believed staunchly that his problems should never result in the direct disruption of the lives of others. While he was sure that capes had similar feelings, a person didn't go into that life without some degree of empathy for human life, he felt that often times members of the league got too wrapped up in the fight to think of the consequences of their actions.

Still, in spite of his own clashing ideals with his partner, he did not want this little disagreement to blow up into something greater. Yes, to the casual observer it was a minor disagreement. But Percy had lost enough friends over the years to know that if problems or disagreements, no matter how minor, went unresolved then issues arose. Slowly, those problems would compound. It would start with a minor disagreement, and then slowly any and every disagreement that followed would build upon one another, until the tension reached a boiling point. For any relationship to be successful, clear and honest communication was needed. While such a thing was a bit more difficult for him, ancient laws and all that, he still believed they should address things before they went any further.

"I'm sorry-"

"I'm Sorry-"

Both said at the same time as they reached the bottom of the stairs, just outside the precinct. Both just stared blankly at one another for a minute, before the pair both broke down in chuckles.

"We good?" Percy asked, reaching his fist out to her,

"Yeah," Montoya smirked, bumping her own fist against his.

With that, the two made their way over to the parking lot, got in their respective vehicles, and took off in the direction of their respective destinations.

BREAK

One Police Plaza was located in one of the oldest districts in the city. Whereas much of the urban sprawl, especially around Percy's own precinct, was more modern its architectural designs, the Five Points was more gothic in its appearance. Sprawling spires, and old brickworks, Percy rather liked the more historical look of the headquarters for the Gotham Police Department.

Parking his car, Percy made his way to the building attached to the gothic police monolith. Unlike One Police, the forensics lab stood out as a monument to modernity. Five stories of tall, glass walls in some form of postmodern expressionism, Percy couldn't help but be impressed. In spite of all he had read about the lack of funding the GCPD had been receiving, the building was clearly brand new.

Pushing open the doors to the tall building, Percy showed his identification to one of the desk attendants in the main lobby, and he was directed to the fifth floor of the building. Percy was reminded of his time at NYU; the building was very reminiscent of some of the buildings he had taken classes in. He arrived at a closed door with the number 515 on a sign by the handle. There was a buzzer next to the handle, taking the hint, Percy pressed the buzzer, and a few seconds passed before the was a 'click', and the door was unlocked.

The inside was about what he expected out of a forensics lab. The sterilized, hospital-like, smell hit his nostrils in a wave. The room was open, with several large machines tucked away into various corners. On the far side of the room, facing the large windows, was a large man. He was a little over six feet tall, with deep black skin, a shaved head, and a white lab coat, he was standing over a machine as it whizzed and hummed. Hearing the door close behind Percy, the man looked up and turned around from his work to see who was intruding onto his personal space.

"Detective Jackson," Percy introduced himself, "I'm working the St. Cloud case."

The man grunted but nodded, "So you're the one making my life difficult." he said gruffly, instead of introducing himself.

"Sorry that a kid is dead. Next time someone decides to cap a fourteen-year old I'll make a call and see if it's ok with you first," Percy shot back. He understood where the man was coming from, if the commissioner was putting the pressure on for him to start putting up results, then the man had likely been living in the lab. That didn't excuse acting like a jackass though.

The man just snorted, and Percy caught the name on the badge on his lapel. "Dr. Treyvon Parker." He strode past Percy and over to a table with a variety of evidence bags and other items that Percy recognized from the alley the night of the shoot.

"You got lucky. One of the shots went clean through the girl and embedded itself in the alley." Parker said without preamble, pulling up one of the evidence bags. "We also managed to pull out a couple of shell casings from the alley." Parker held up another bag, "Nine-millimeter. We ran the casings through NIBIN and we got a hit on at least seven other shootings over the last three years that came from the gun that was used."

NIBIN, or the National Integrated Ballistics Information Network, was a relatively new addition to crime scene analysis. Techs could input data found on a shell casing and, using a machine and algorithm Percy didn't understand, could track down the likely gun that was used in the shoot, and trace it back to other cases where that gun was used. It was incredibly helpful technology, that only a handful of states had the access to. Percy frowned though, as useful as it was to hear that they had this evidence it meant that they were really dealing with a professional.

Percy almost felt his stomach drop out of his shoes; this guy was likely already very long gone.

"Get any clean prints off of the casings?" Percy asked. He was hoping that their guy hadn't been smart enough to wear gloves when he was loading his brass, and would have left a clear print for them to have put through the system.

Parker shook his head, "No luck. At least nothing clean."

Percy bit back a groan but just nodded. Parker then walked around to the end of the table, "We pulled a variety of particulates off of the clothing. But we didn't find anything that would indicate that she was held in a secondary location or she was anywhere but her home, school or that alley. We did manage to get a few sets of prints off of her jacket, ran those through the system too, but again, no luck."

"Hell…" Percy muttered under his breath, "You guys get anything we can use to figure out who this guy is?" Percy asked, his frustrations mounting.

"No," said Parker simply, but then he grinned. "But we found something else that's very, very interesting."

He then picked up the smallest bag on the table and handed it over to Percy. With a look of confusion, Percy took the bag and looked at it. Opening the manila bag, he peered inside, where the small bracelet that he had found in the alleyway lay.

"The bracelet?" Percy asked, "What's that got to do with anything,"

"That," said Parker, pointing at the bag before resting his elbows on top of the table, "Is your motive."

Percy stood stock still. "Excuse me?" he said, because he wasn't quite sure he had heard the man correctly. Parker's grin just widened in self-satisfaction,

"I don't mean to presume anything here detective," he said, still resting on the table, "But would I be correct in assuming you aren't thinking this murder was just a mugging gone wrong?"

Percy didn't move for a moment, his mind whirling as he tried to process the information. Finally, he just nodded, "Yes," he said slowly, "Working theory at the moment is that our guy was after something, and not just trying to kill the kid."

"Thought so," said Parker, that same satisfied look on his face, "And the reason I thought so, is because of that little bracelet." he pointed again at the bag.

"Alright," said Percy, having enough of the little game the man was playing, "What the hell is so special about the damn bracelet?"

"That ain't a bracelet detective," Parker said easily, not rattled by Percy's aggravation, "It's an encryption. A set of codes mapping out a seriously impressive security array of some kind. I don't know what it's for, or what it does, but the little gem on there?" he said, gesturing again to the bag and Percy looked down again to look at the small emerald dangling from its side, "That gem has coding written on the inside. No idea how they managed to do it, or what it says cause that ain't my specialty, but there's a thousand or so lines of coding algorithms engraved on the inside of the emerald."

Percy felt his breathing stop momentarily, as a surge of hope flooded through him. Their guy wasn't about to go anywhere. Percy had been sure that there was something else going on, everything they had found during the investigation indicated as such. There was just no other reason for the man to have trashed Silver's Penthouse, or assume the role of her personal chauffeur. He hadn't been sure what he had been expecting, but this? This most certainly had not been it.

"How in the hell did you spot that?" Percy asked, slightly amazed.

Parker just shrugged his shoulders noncommittally, "I wanted to get a closer look at the emerald, sometimes the piece makers will put some sort of marking or engraving on their works to show who made it, but when I put it under the scope, I saw the coding instead."

"Did you find a mark or anything while you were looking though?" Percy asked, if they could find out who crafted the piece, then it would be likely that they could find someone who could tell them what it was, or yet, break the decryption code.

"Nothing, sorry pal," Parker said, not sounding the least bit sorry, and Percy found his patience with the man growing thinner by the passing second.

"So how would something like this even work?" Percy asked as a new line of thought entered his mind, "I'm no coder, but as far as I know, you can't just shove an emerald into a thumb drive and unlock the secrets of the universe,"

Parker just snorted, but didn't disagree, "Think of it like this. Out there somewhere, is a lock, and the coding on the inside of that emerald is the key. You input the coding into whatever it's made for, and it unlocks the door."

"Any way we could get someone in here to break through the encryption, or maybe reverse engineer it so we could find out what this thing is used for?" Percy asked, still not taking his eyes away from the bracelet,

"Maybe, but not anytime soon." Parker admitted with a shrug, "Gotham don't got the tech to break through something like that, I hear that there's a guy out in Central City who does some pretty good code work, Allen or something like that, but unless you feel like driving all the way out to Missouri, you're probably out of luck for at least a few weeks."

Percy sighed, but nodded. He figured it would have been a bit of a long shot. Not even Metropolis had someone who was able to break encryptions. Most of the good coders were either in the private sector, or working as subcontractors to the federal government.

"Where are your gloves at?" he asked, and Parker pointed to a table behind Percy. Putting down the bag on the table, he walked over, and Percy grabbed a pair of gloves from the box on the table, and slapped them on. Then, grabbing the bag, he slowly pulled the bracelet out of the bag and held it with one hand. He placed the now empty bag on the table, and with his free hand, reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone. Angling the jewelry in such a way that the emerald was dangling free and unobstructed, Percy snapped a couple of pictures at a variety of angles. When he was done, he carefully replaced the bracelet and resealed the bag, and placed it on the table.

"Anything else for me?" Percy asked,

Parked just a raised a brow, "Not yet," he said slowly, "But I'm not quite through sifting through the other messes you brought my way. I have a team working through what we pulled out of the penthouse and I'm still waiting to hear back from the morgue about the second victim you found. I have your number; I'll call if we find anything else for you."

Percy nodded, "Thanks," he said, "Great work, on that," he pointed to the bag on the table, before he felt his phone begin to vibrate in his pocket. Reaching in, he pulled it out, only to see a number he didn't recognize flashing over the screen. "Forward your reports to our precinct," Without another word to the rude forensics' analyst, Percy strode out of the lab, answering the phone as he did so.

"Hello?" he answered,

"Is this detective Jackson?" a smooth female voice asked on the other end of the line,

"Yes," he answered as he closed the door to the lab behind him, and strode towards the elevator. "Who is this?"

"This is Samantha Khan from the District Attorney's office, how are you today detective?"

Percy's brows shot up to his hairline, Gordon must have had a busy night, "Another day in paradise, you know how that goes. Is there something I can help you with miss Khan?"

"Your name was attached to the search warrant requests presented to the office yesterday, however we could not find your fax number in our system."

"Ah," Percy said, stepping into the elevator, silently hoping he wasn't about to lose service, "Sorry about that. I'm a recent hire and was put on a case immediately, so I haven't had a chance to set up my number yet. I'll take care of that later today. Does that mean we have our warrant?"

"Please make sure you do." Khan said, "And yes, we were going to fax it over this morning."

"Can I just stop by and pick it up myself?" he asked,

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, Percy thought he might have lost the call. "That would be acceptable. When can you be here?" Khan finally said,

Percy felt himself grinning. Things were starting to look up for them. If they could get even a semi-clean look at their guy, it could prove beyond useful. He checked his watch briefly before pulling his phone down and pulling his map app out. After a quick check to see how close the DA's office was, he replaced the phone by his ear.

"I can be there in fifteen minutes," he said,

"That will be fine detective. Your warrant will be waiting with the receptionist in the lobby." There was a click, and the woman ended the call. Percy pulled the phone away from his face and stared at it for a moment. With a snort of amusement, he tucked the phone away back into his pants pockets, as the elevator doors reopened.

He exited the building and made it back to the parking lot, and into his car. Once inside, he pulled up the map and set a route towards the DA's office, then swiped over and called up Montoya and set the phone on speaker, then he switched back to the map app. He was just placing the phone into the dock on his center console when his partner answered.

"This Montoya," was her crisp greeting,

"Heya Monty," Percy said cheerfully, "How'd the cut go?"

"You sound…chipper," Montoya said, "And nothing. The M.E. found some particulates under her finger nails that they're going to analyze, hopefully comes back with someone in the system,"

"It won't," Percy interjected, "The techs found prints on some of the casings the pulled from the alley, ran them through AFIS but got nothing out of them."

"Ok…" Montoya replied, as she drew out the word, "You've got something, don't you?"

"Maybe," Percy teased, unable to keep a smug smile off of his face as he turned at the intersection, "Or maybe I have a couple of somethings"

"Don't be a cocktease," Montoya chided, "What do you got,"

"Alright, so I'm guessing at least one of the bullets was not in the girl's body?"

"That's right,"

"That's because it was a through and through. Right into the concrete. Anyways, they pulled it, analyzed it, and ran it through NIBIN. Seven other shoots Montoya, our guy's been involved in seven other shoots."

Montoya was quiet, "Ok, so our boy is a professional. Why is that a good thing?" She asked, and Percy realized with a start that, with how their conversation had gone that morning, he had never had a chance to discuss what his thoughts or findings on the case were.

"It's a good thing, because we know that he isn't done with his job yet."

"Really not in the mood for games today Metro, what do you mean?"

Percy got the message and got straight to the point, "Alright, so hear me out," he said as he pulled up to a stoplight, "I'm sure that I'm not the only one here that's been feeling like there was more to this right?"

"Thought that was pretty clear when we found the second body," was Montoya's dry reply.

Percy chuckled, "Yes," he drawled, "But I was more referring to the why, here Monty. Why was there a second body? Why, if this guy was here to kill miss St. Cloud, did he take the time to assume the identify of her driver if he already knew where she lived and where she went to school? Why was the penthouse trashed? Why not just take her out when she was coming out of school?"

"Alright, alright, I get your point. Yes, all of that has occurred to me. So, what are you thinking, our guy is looking for something and thought that Silver had it?"

"Got it in one, and I think I know exactly what he was looking for." Percy said, "You remember that bracelet I found?" Montoya grunted in affirmation, "Turns out? Not just a nice piece, the folks in the lab found an encryption on the inside of the emerald."

"What?" Montoya asked, "Like, stenciled on one side or something?"

"No," Percy corrected, "I mean that there are shit-ton of code that was inscribed on the inside of the emerald that are smaller than the eye can see. They only found it by chance, but whatever it is, works kind of like a key for something. If the St. Clouds are as rich as I've been hearing, then it's probably a reserve or valuable art piece or something stupid like that. Anyways, the point is, that I'm willing to bet that our guy was looking for this." Percy said, his voice growing a little more excited,

"That makes sense. Wait, I just thought of something," Montoya said, "If that is true, and our guy left it at the scene of the crime, then he probably doesn't know what his little code looks like."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Percy exclaimed happily, "I mean if it's like super-secret codes for something, then he was probably thinking it would be on like, a thumb drive or something."

"Oh shit," Percy heard Montoya mutter,

"What?" Percy asked,

"If he's still looking for it, what do you think the chances are that our boy tries to go back to the Penthouse to look again?"

Percy scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, "That place is still swarming with cops, he can't be dumb enough to try and break in there right now."

"He's killed at least two people in a week Metro," Montoya chided, "This guy sounds desperate, I would not put it past him. Better to be safe than sorry."

Percy just nodded, more for himself since there was no way Montoya could actually see him. "That works out I suppose," he mused, "Especially since I was going to be heading back there anyways."

"Why's that?" Montoya asked,

Percy spoke as he pulled into a parking space on the side of the curb along the District Attorney's office building, "Got a call from someone in the DA's office, they have our warrant for the camera's. Was going to suggest we get the tapes and head back to the precinct and settle in for a movie night."

Montoya groaned over the phone, and Percy couldn't blame her. Tape duty was about as tedious as a stakeout. "On the bright side," Percy said, trying to convince himself as much as his partner that it wouldn't be too bad, "At least we have a rough timeline to look for. Whoever the guy is with Silver and drives off has got to be our guy,"

There was a sigh but Percy could hear the resigned agreement in her tone, "You're right, you're right."

Percy thought of something, "Were you the one to submit the request?" he asked,

"Yeah, faxed it over to the Commissioner's personal line, why?"

"You didn't happen to ask for the tapes of the surrounding buildings and traffic cameras, did you?" he asked.

She snorted slightly in derision, "C'mon Metro, give me some credit here, this isn't my first month on the job. Yes, I said that the cameras in the building, along with the cameras of the neighboring high-rises and street cams potentially held evidence pertaining to the identity of a suspect in a double homicide."

Percy just chuckled as he stepped out of the car, "Alright, meet you there in…" he checked his watch, "Half an hour?"

"Sounds good," and then she hung up. Chuckling, Percy walked into the building, and true to miss Khan's word, the warrants were waiting for him. He chatted up the secretary for a few minutes before he collected his items and made his way back towards his car.

He thought about what Montoya had said as he made his way towards the penthouse. She was right, if nothing else then their guy was going to get desperate soon. It couldn't hurt anything to add a few more units to the scene, and maybe around Dorsett, the dead driver's, home. Sighing as he got back behind the wheel, he checked his watch, it was a little before one in the afternoon, which meant that they would be able to go through a few hours of tape, and then they could make their way to fundraiser. Groaning, Percy placed his head on the steering wheel, he still had to bring that fun little topic up to Montoya, and he had a feeling that she wasn't going to love the idea of spending her evening at a black-tie gala with Gotham's elite.

Turing the ignition over, Percy put the car in gear and prepared himself for another long day.

BREAK

_Recognize: Black Canary 13_

The familiar sensation of her atoms being reconfigured sent a tingle shivering across her skin as Dinah stepped out of the tube. She was always a little taken aback when she stepped onto the watchtower, the Leagues orbiting headquarters. The view from the large windows by the tube was indescribable. The entire planet, the large blue-green sphere, gently floating through the void. It served as an anchor for her, a constant reminder of why she did what she did, and why she would continue the fight her mother had started.

"It's funny," came a voice from over her shoulder. Turning to the voice, Dinah was unsurprised to see her fellow teammate and friend. Diana Prince, better known to the world as Wonder Woman, was on the orbiting space station nearly as often as J'onn.

"What is?" Dinah asked, her gaze following the taller woman as she moved to stand next to Dinah by the window, gazing down on the planet below.

"That is," Diana replied, wrapping a knuckle against the glass in the direction of the planet below. "From up here, it always appears so peaceful. So calm. Almost idyllic." Dinah didn't have anything to say. The unspoken 'but we know better,' didn't need to be said by either heroine. The pair stood there in silence for a while, neither speaking, but taking solace in the beauty and majesty of the view before them.

"So, what are you doing here?" Diana asked after a few minutes of quiet contemplation. She hadn't spoken loudly, her voice barely above that of a whisper, but in the quiet confines of the watchtower, even the quietest voices carried. "You're not on Monitor rotation for another week,"

Dinah turned her gaze away from the planet to regard her friend, "Needed to run something through the database,"

Diana quirked a meticulously plucked brow, "Trouble?" she asked, and Dinah almost chuckled at the way the muscular woman's body involuntarily began tensing before relaxing and tensing again. After nearly a decade of knowing the woman she shouldn't have been surprised, but it always did catch Dinah off guard how easily, even the mention of combat, could set the warrior loose. She supposed that if you grew up fighting gods and demons you probably would be a little quick on the draw.

"Maybe, not sure yet. There might be a new player in Gotham."

An amused, but not quite pitying look came over Diana's features, "If there is, do you really think Bruce hasn't already been all over him?"

Dinah didn't think she'd ever really get used to hearing someone refer to the Bat by his real name. Though she supposed, if anyone could and would, it would Diana.

"You're probably right," Dinah chuckled, "But it would be easier trying to pull the teeth from a mountain lion than get Batman to share some of his intel with me. And besides," she added as she began to casually make her way towards the Monitor room, where the League's supercomputer resided, "Sometimes you just have to satisfy your own personal curiosity."

"Fair enough," Diana laughed, "Would you care for an extra set of eyes?"

"Sure," Dinah shrugged, she wasn't about to brush off the help of someone with more than a few centuries under her belt.

The Monitor room was the second largest room on the Watchtower, second only to the conference room. It was situated in the heart of the of the building, completely sequestered behind several, nigh impermeable, lead-lined magnesium-based alloy walls. While the entire station was made of the same alloy, Batman had insisted on lining the inner walls of that particular room with lead, Dinah wasn't entirely certain why, but if the dirty looks Clark had given the Bat when he had informed them of the design were any indication, then she assumed it was something to do with Superman.

Against one wall was the Monitor, a large super computer in its own right, but with a very different purpose to the machine Dinah intended on using. The Monitor, as it was known to the League, was linked up to several dozen WayneTech satellites, and allowed the League to slice their way into every known police and military surveillance system they were aware of, as well as unlimited access to most known forms of radio-waves. It allowed the League the quickest possible response time to any world-ending emergency or catastrophe. It was an extension of something Batman had designed himself, which allowed the man unlimited access to anyone with a cellphone, radio, or anything transmitting radio waves. The Monitor was run by some complex algorithm Dinah didn't care to understand, to flag specific words or phrases, and relay them back to the user at the station. If the flagged items were inconsequential, then things moved on as normal, but every once in a while, the Monitor would pick up on something else, and it would be the job of whomever was on duty that day, to get the word out immediately the who, what, and where. It was the League's first line of defense against the greatest threats to humanity, which was why there was always a leaguer on standby for Monitor duty. Which was why Diana just so happened to be the tower.

Dinah would be the first to jump in and praise the efficacy, and life-saving potential of the Monitor. It had already prevented utter catastrophe, natural or otherwise, on nearly a dozen of occasions. It was difficult to say exactly how many lives had been saved, directly because of the existence of the machine. That being said, the Monitor made Dinah uneasy. In spite of all the good it had done, and all the lives they'd saved using it, Dinah couldn't help but feel like it was a gross invasion of privacy. She trusted in Batman and Superman and the rest of the hyper-intelligent Leaguers who designed the Monitor's firewall, but she her mind couldn't help but go to the worst-case scenario. What if someone did manage to hack into their system, sure they would have to know about the Watchtower, and the Monitor, and be able to hack into it, but their enemies were numerous, intelligent and powerful. To think that the enemies of the League didn't know about their headquarters, or assume they had something similar to the Monitor would a practice in naivety. The kind of havoc that could be wrought with a system such as the Monitor was mind numbing. That was before a person even considered the moral ambiguity of even creating such a system in the first place.

Dinah knew she wasn't the only person to have these beliefs as well. A couple of the others had even started to call it Brother Eye, in reference to Orwell's dystopian Big Brother, when they thought none of the triumvirate were around.

Tearing her gaze away from the Monitor, Dinah turned her attention to the supercomputer. Another large screen that was supposedly modeled after the system Batman used in his own headquarters. Dinah pulled out a small thumb drive, last night she had used her own personal system to download the information she had accumulated using her League Lens' and transfer the data over. Taking the thumb drive, she inserted it into a port under the keyboard. The file appeared on the Monitor, and Dinah clicked on it to download. In only a few seconds the entirety of the file was downloaded onto the League database.

Mousing over, Dinah clicked on a link to the shared League Person's of Interest System, or LPIS. The LPIS was all of the records any Leaguer had ever downloaded or shared on any person or group that was of interest or suspect. It was, like the Monitor, linked in with every nation's national archive on everything from criminal and arrest records to school attendance listings and missing person's services.

Clicking on the downloaded file on Percy, she dragged it over and dropped it into the search menu, and instantly the computer began running everything that had ever been put through the system on Percy Jackson.

Diana just watched quietly from the side as Dinah worked. She found herself intrigued, it had been a rather boring shift, so when she got the alert that her friend was coming through the Zeta Tube she had welcomed the minor distraction. If any trouble arose, the Monitor would be sure to alert the whole station so she wasn't all that concerned with being 'away from her post'. That, and it wasn't often that something caught her friend's attention like this. She was happy for her, the League had a bit of an unwritten rule: leave outside distractions at the door, and whatever had been going on between her and Oliver was clearly troubling the woman. So, to have this little distraction, no matter how potentially insignificant was a welcome sign to the warrior princess. There was that, and Dinah was not the type to fuss over something she didn't feel was potentially important.

As the computer began running through files, and they waited for the results, Diana asked, "So what's so special about this person?"

Dinah looked over at her friend, "He's a new detective with GCPD, transferred from Metropolis, I ran into him at Ted's," she said, and Diana knew who she was referring to. She had met and fought with Ted 'Wildcat' Grant a few times. He was a good man, who was now quietly enjoying his retirement. "Ted said that he bribed him to ignore the fact that he was lifting weights that would shatter most Olympic records."

Diana's eyebrows rose at that, "A Metahuman then," she said

Dinah nodded, "That's what we were thinking," Diana knew she was referring to Ted, "I was there with Artemis, you know, Arrow's new protege," the lack of her use of Oliver's given name was not missed by Diana, "I wanted to get her out of the cave for a bit, the team's been a bit…volatile lately as I'm sure you've heard." Which was an understatement. Diana did not have much, if any contact with this new 'team' that Batman had created, but she kept up to date with most of the League gossip. Supposedly, there was a mole within the team and Aqualad had been keeping that information from the rest of the kids.

"Anyway," Dinah continued, "I was trying to help her with her unarmed combat training, but she was having some problems with it. Percy," Diana assumed that was the man in question, and was assumed by Dinah's casual usage of his first name, but Dinah didn't even realize she had done it, "He noticed what was going on and offered some pointers,"

"Bold of him," Diana noted, and Dinah nodded. It had annoyed her a little that this strange man had just interjected himself into their training, but she supposed she couldn't fault him too much for it, Artemis had been rather vocal about her displeasure, and Percy hadn't been malicious or anything in his intent. Dinah wasn't sure what it was about the man, she was curious to be certain about him, but there was something in her gut that was telling her that he wasn't a threat. At least not to her or Artemis.

"Yeah, but honestly, I was getting annoyed. Artemis wasn't listening to anything I was trying to teach her and he wasn't rude about it, so when he offered to help, I thought to hell with it." Dinah said,

That really had Diana's attention, "You let a civilian spar with one of the League's…" she searched for the term the young ones seemed to prefer for a moment, "protege's?" she asked,

"Guy is covered in military ink, I figured he was at least trained, and I just figured, hey, either he actually shows her something useful and maybe knocks her ass into gear, or he gets put in the ground for butting in. Either way, win-win, right?"

Diana just laughed, "Indeed. So, what happened?"

"Put her in the mat in less than a second," Dinah answered, snapping her fingers for emphasis, "He moved quick too, faster than even someone who's been trained to react fast should be able to. One second she's standing there, the next she was on the ground that basically solidified it to me that this was not normal. I don't care how long he served, I know who trained Artemis before we got to her, there is no way even a trained civie could do that, that quickly."

Diana nodded; she had heard the rumors about the young Miss Crock's upbringings. If this 'Percy' had indeed been able to defeat her so quickly and efficiently it spoke to something beyond the combat training most members of the American military received.

"Then there was the phone call,"

"Phone call?" Diana asked,

Dinah had the grace to at least appear sheepish at that, running a slightly embarrassed hand through her hair, "Might have listened to a phone call he had while he was changing in the bathroom, hey!" she countered, seeing Diana's disapproving glance, "In my defense, he was shifty, and when he got the call, he left in a real hurry. Besides, who he was speaking to is a bit concerning,"

Diana gestured for Dinah to continue, "The name Jimmy Olson mean anything to you?"

Diana's eyes widened, "Kal's friend?" she asked,

Dinah nodded, "But it gets better. Not only does he supposedly have an in with Olson, but he name-dropped Lois. As in Clark's Lois."

"Oh dear…" Diana muttered under her breath, as the implications started to hit her.

Dinah hummed in agreement, "I could excuse one or two things as coincidental. He knows Jimmy Olson and Lois Lane? Ok sure, he was a cop in Metropolis, he made connections with the people who are well well-connected. I can buy that. But then he also just happens to stumble on a gym run by a former Leaguer, and run into two off-duty capes? Something about that doesn't add up to me. You could call it a coincidence but we've worked the game too long to believe in those anymore."

Diana agreed. In the world they lived in, and the battles the fought, against the types of people they fought; coincidence was not a luxury one could afford to believe in. Diana herself, had made far too many mistakes, because she did not connect the dots soon enough. It was enough to make her realize why Bruce was the way that he was, if there was even a remote chance that something was not as it appeared, they needed to treat it as a one-hundred percent certainty.

The beep from the computer drew Diana's attention away from her thoughts, it had finished the calculation. Dinah, hearing the beep too, turned to begin scanning through the files. What she saw wasn't exactly surprising, since it matched up with what she had seen and put together herself. Fairly average childhood, though he did seem to move around a lot. Military background, collegiate honors, and a quick path through the ranks of the Metropolis Police Department. There was nothing immediately noticeable that the League had flagged as suspicious.

She turned to make a comment to Diana but stopped when she saw her colleague's expression. Diana's mouth was slack-jawed, her eyes wide and round in shock and disbelief. Dinah tried to get her attention; waved her hands in front of her face and snapped her fingers but nothing seemed to faze the warrior, as she was lost in her own thoughts.

"Di," She finally said sharply, "Talk to me here, who is he?" she demanded. It was obvious enough that Diana knew Percy, an oddity in and of itself, but the look on the Amazon's face was starting to disturb Dinah. In all the years she had known her, Dinah had never known her comrade to be surprised or shocked by something.

"Gods above," Diana finally managed to mutter, but it sounded more like a prayer, "I had thought-we had all thought…. I can't believe he's alive…."

"Diana!" Dinah said, a touch more forcefully, "Who. Is. He?"

Diana managed to pull her attention away from the screen, for a second her face scrunched up, as though she were trying to piece together a particularly difficult puzzle. When she spoke, her tone was quiet, subdued, and far removed from the confident sounding woman Dinah had come to know, "I guess you could say he's my…half-cousin? Maybe full cousin? It is…difficult to explain."

Dinah had no idea how to respond to that, thankfully, her mouth had always been a bit quicker than her mind, and took up the slack.

"Oh what the fuck"

A wordsmith, she was not.

**AN: Here we go, this where things really start beginning to pop off. Got some pretty cool stuff planned for the next few chapters that I think will be a pretty interesting take on these kinds of crossovers never really seen before, so I'm pretty excited for that. Thanks for all the support on the story guys, it's unbelievable, as always you all are awesome. Thanks for the love, and stay safe and healthy. **

**Love,**

**LilDB**


	7. The Lost Hero

It took Dinah several moments before she composed herself enough to be able to speak. "What do you mean he's your cousin? How?"

"The same way I believe anyone has blood relations, "Diana mused, "A man and a woman-"

"Cut the shit," Dinah interrupted, "You know what I mean. How does an Amazon have any male blood relations? And what do you mean you thought he was dead?"

Diana sighed, and rubbed anxiously at her wrists as she contemplated her answer. She inwardly cursed herself for her outburst. Had she not said anything, she wouldn't be in this position. While there would likely be no blowback if she answered truthfully, she knew that the Gods would not appreciate having all of their secrets being told. She also did not like the idea of exposing more people to the knowledge of demigods.

"Before I begin, I will tell you now that I cannot, and will not tell you everything. Partly out of respect for Perseus, his secrets and his life are his own, but also because my interactions with Perseus were limited. I had more direct contact with his half-sister."

"Half-sister?" Dinah asked, but Diana waved the question away,

"I will do my best to explain as much as I am comfortable with. As you are no doubt aware, the gods have not disappeared." she said

Dinah nodded, memories of battles with the god of war resurfacing as the Amazon spoke, "Like in the days of old, they have maintained their power, and adapted to the times, moving with the ever-changing powers of the west. Around the turn of the nineteenth century, the gods moved Olympus to the United States. Once here, they did as they always did, maintained their realms and…had relations with mortals. Perseus is the result of one of those unions. As in the days of old, Demigods, the children of mortals and gods, are born out of carnal desire, but also to fill a purpose." Diana explained, "The gods are bound by rules more ancient than can be rightly remembered. For the most part, they are bound to their domains, and are unable or unwilling to interfere in the lives of mortals. There are exceptions of course; as the god of war has proven, all laws have loopholes that can be exploited."

"Demigods, as a result, often act in the place of their parents, running errands, taking quests at their behest, and most unfortunately, fighting the wars that they create." Diana's face creased in obvious discomfort. She was embarrassed by the actions of her kin.

"Around nine years ago, there were two wars fought. One between the gods and their forbearers, the Titans, and a second a year later, against Mother Earth and her army of Giants."

Dinah's eyes widened in surprise, but didn't interrupt, even though her mind raced at the revelation. Doing the math in her head, she sighed sadly, as she realized that there was a distinct likelihood that the League had not yet been founded given the timeline of the events. They couldn't have helped even if they had wanted to.

Diana read the look on her friend's face and answered the unasked question, "As I'm sure you remember, the League had not yet been established nine years ago, and I was still on Themyscira. More to the point however, the gods are insistent on keeping the affairs of the divine in house. They would not have accepted outside help, even if it had been offered. But I am getting off track, as I was saying there were two wars, and Perseus played leading roles in both."

Diana began pacing back and forth as she spoke, "I did not meet Perseus until the second war, Mother Earth had managed to force open the gates to the great pit on the island, and we spent several days fighting off the incursion. When the battle was won, we learned of the battle the demigods were waging. I left behind a detachment of Amazons to safeguard the gates, just in case, but took the bulk of our forces to aid in the battle. When we arrived, Perseus was orchestrating the defense. For three days we fought, we bled, and our friends and family died, as we tried to buy as much time as we could."

"Buy time for what?" Dinah couldn't help but blurt out, but Diana just nodded at her in understanding.

"My apologies. While Perseus and I fought off the forces of the Earth Mother as they attacked one of the few safe havens for the demigods, seven demigods were dispatched to seal the Earth Mother away again. They succeeded, and with the aid of the Olympians, the Earth Mother was defeated. There was a meeting, between the gods and their children, one that I was not privy to, but that was the last time I ever saw Perseus again. It was the last time anyone ever saw him again. He just…disappeared." Diana fell silent as she became awash in her own memories, but Dinah's mind was racing.

Diana's comments had done everything but put her worries at ease. There was a potentially very powerful demigod, just roaming around in Gotham city. "How strong is he?" she asked suddenly,

Diana started as she was brought out of her thoughts. She crossed her arms over her chest and dipped her head slightly as she thought, "Well, there are…factors involved, depending on where he is, but assuming best case scenario for him? I would say he has the potential to be my level in terms of raw power and ability. His gift for swordplay is unlike anything I've ever seen before and he is gifted with spears and tridents as well."

Dinah's heart was hammering against her chest, as her mind raced. She had to force herself to calm down, she was majorly overreacting. Thus far, Percy had done nothing suspicious, or worthy of concern. Furthermore, Batman would have been all over him the minute he entered the city if he had truly been a threat worth worrying over.

"Is he a threat?" she asked.

"I do not believe so, no." Diana answered slowly, "As I said, the bulk of our time together was spent fighting, and this was many years ago now and people do change, so I fear I may not be an accurate judge of his character now. However," she said before Dinah could say anything, "I have found in my time that you discover the true worth of a person in the heat of combat. As you well know, the true merit of a person comes out when their life is on the line. What I saw from Perseus during the fighting was reassuring. He is a selfless leader, willing to put himself in harm's way if it means that the person next to him lives even half a moment longer. His actions saved the lives of not only countless demigods, but my sisters as well…" Diana trailed off again, her eyes once more clouding over in memory.

Dinah thought on what Diana had told her. Diana was a good judge of character, and she was right. The true nature of a person, the ugliness or holiness that's inside someone's heart, comes out when they are in mortal danger. It reassured some of her worries. She also had to remind herself that he lived and worked in the heart of Superman's home for years. If was up to something nefarious, chances were good that he would have done something, or at least he wouldn't have moved from the home of one super, to another.

Maybe she was overreacting to this entire situation. Percy had done nothing worthy of this kind of deep dive into his life, other than try and do his job, and be unfortunate enough that he kept crossing the path of major League members. She was beginning to think that she might have been a little too quick on the draw to begin diving into his life and history as she had. But she hadn't survived in this world for as long as she had without being careful. Appearances could be deceiving, and she would not apologize for being careful. That being said, she would keep a loose eye on him. Hell, she knew where he worked out now, so perhaps the occasional, accidental meeting was bound to happen. It was a compromise she could live with; she would be able to assuage her own personal concerns of having such a powerful entity in her own backyard, and she wouldn't feel guilty about prying into the past of a man who had seemingly done nothing wrong.

"Who all knows?" she asked, as the though occurred to her that if there was a half-god running around Batman's backyard, he'd want to know about it.

One of Diana's brows raised, "Are you referring to the League?" she asked and Dinah nodded, "Kal, Bruce, and now you are the only ones in the League aware of their existence. Demigods have a hard-enough life, and I do not wish to add to their problems by sicking the entirety of the League on them," Dinah nodded at the explanation, even though she still had questions, she could tell that Diana had already told her more than she was comfortable with. Diana continued speaking, "If you're referring to the League's knowledge of Perseus, well…"

"The answer is no, we did not," came a deep and familiar voice from behind them. It was only years of working with the man that kept Dinah from jumping at the sound of Batman. Turning around, both Diana and Dinah blinked in surprise. In the years that Dinah had known the man, she could count on one hand the number of times she had been in the same room as Batman when he was out of costume. This would be added to that list, in exchange for the armored combat suit he normally wore, the Dark Knight was instead dressed in an immaculate three-piece suit. However, even when out of costume, the man's default expression seemed to be a scowl. The scowl even more pronounced now, bordering on a full-on glare, directed at the Amazon.

Diana whistled, "Looking sharp Bruce, special occasion?" she asked teasingly. One of the many reasons that Dinah admired the woman, was her ability to be seemingly unaffected by Batman's intensity.

Batman ignored the question, "Care to explain why you didn't tell me I had a demigod in my city?" he growled,

"How long were you listening to us?" Diana asked, ignoring the question entirely. Had she not been worried about becoming Batman's focus for his ire, Dinah would have laughed. Few others got away with giving Batman hell like Diana did.

Batman's jaw clenched tightly. "Diana," he rumbled lowly, he wasn't going to ask again.

Sighing overly dramatically, complete with an enormous eye roll, Diana placed her hands on her hips and adopted the most pitying expression she could muster, "Well," she said, as though she were talking a simple child, "Since I didn't know he was alive until about ten minutes ago, I don't see how I could have known to tell you. Besides, it's not like you ever told me he was in Gotham."

Given how hard the man was now clenching his teeth together, Dinah was beginning to genuinely worry if the Dark Knight might accidentally chip a tooth.

Batman continued to glower at the Amazon for several tense moments, "We will be discussing this," he ground out, clearly perturbed. Diana just rolled her eyes, smirk still present. Batman rounded on Dinah, "Before this…" he searched for the word, "Revelation, I was looking for you Canary."

"Oh?" she asked, her interest piqued, "What's up?"

Striding past her and to the computer, he took a quick look at the detailed report on Percy Jackson that was on the screen, before exiting out it. With a few deft key strokes, a new file came up. It was the record the league had on the newest iteration of a criminal organization, The Royal Flush Gang. Pictures and information came onto the screen describing several, very colorfully dressed individuals, all with the card game motif.

"How up to speed are you with the Royal Flush Gang?" he asked, turning to look at her,

Dinah shrugged, "As much as anyone but you I suppose," she answered honestly, "International crime syndicate, wanted in several countries. They tend to stick to the classics, armed robbery, jewel theft. They're powerless but always well-armed, I know that Interpol has been gunning for them for a few years now. Why? What's going down?"

Bruce nodded his head at her summary, "I received word that they had been lying low in Gotham for the past few months. Most likely they have been trying to hide until the heat from the heist in Monte Carlo died down," Dinah nodded, several months ago the gang had broken into several well secured banks in Monaco. They had gotten away with several million dollars had been in hiding ever since. It was the biggest score, and the riskiest undertaking the gang had taken since they started coming into play a few years ago.

"Now is our opportunity to draw them out of hiding," Batman continued, "Tonight Bruce Wayne is hosting a charity auction at the Gotham Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art. There will be several, very valuable pieces being moved. I've spent the last several leaking rumors that Batman and Robin will be out of the country, in the hopes of drawing them out of hiding."

Dinah smiled in understanding, "Give them a target so alluring that they can't help but jump at the opportunity for a quick score. Made even easier since the Dynamic Duo are out of town." she said, nodding in appreciation, "Smart." then she frowned as a thought occurred to her, "Isn't it a little risky inviting an attack with so many civilians around?" She asked

Batman nodded, "It is, which is why I want you there. Robin and I would have no trouble taking them down but I want this dealt with quickly. An extra pair of hands will ensure that we can finish things quickly, before the fighting gets out of hand."

"You know Bruce," Diana interjected, "My shift does end in a few hours, if you want an extra set of hands, I'd be more than happy to help out."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Batman rejected calmly, to which Diana just placed a hand on her hip exasperatedly,

"Of course not," Diana said, looking towards the heavens as though they might grant her greater patience, "We wouldn't want to make things too easy, now would we?"

"Don't be deliberately obtuse," Batman countered, "I have no doubts in your capabilities Diana, but I don't want to cause deliberate property damage if I can help it." He ignored the heated glare directed his way, but she otherwise didn't object. Diana was wise enough to know her own shortcomings, and she was well aware that she did have a tendency to break things during a fight.

"She does raise a good point Batman," Dinah said thoughtfully, "Not to say I don't appreciate the invite, but why me?"

Batman turned back to the woman, "Because if you're going to be operating in Gotham, it's going to be on my terms." Dinah scowled but didn't object. She knew better than to argue with the man, it would go nowhere fast, and likely see him try and drive her out of Gotham permanently. Batman was notoriously territorial of his city, but it wasn't like Dinah didn't understand why. If more powerful metas began calling Gotham their home, it would start to attract the kinds of elements that saw cities like Metropolis or Coast City get leveled on a far too regular basis.

"I don't know Batman," Dinah said slowly, "I just hate the idea of clumping so many civilians into such a tight space. It feels like we'll be unnecessarily putting people at risk. It doesn't matter how fast we are; one stray shot is all it can take."

Again, the Dark Knight nodded his head in understanding and approval. He could always count on Canary to have her head in the right space, and have her priorities in check, it was one of the reasons why he didn't make a fuss when she decided to move back to Gotham.

"Your concerns are understandable," he answered, and clicked a few more keys on the terminal, bringing up a display of the architecture of the building, "But ultimately unnecessary. I have already taken the precautions necessary to mitigate the risks to the civilians. When the press did its junket on the auction, I made sure to show them where the paintings were being held," He clicked a few more keys, and a display of a room, just off of where the auction was being held, appeared. "This is the storeroom behind the stage. All of the paintings and artifacts up for auction will be held here. This is where you and Batgirl will be."

Dinah quirked a quizzical brow at that, she hadn't realized that the…. partners, would be involved in the action. Though she shouldn't have been surprised. Batman continued speaking, "The two of you will be the acting security for the auction, which will allow you access to the room, as well as the security lock," he clicked another key and the image of the room shifted again, as the doors and windows were locked down in the room. "When the gang attempts to enter, you flip the switch, and lock them in the room, where we can take them down with minimal threat to the civilians."

Dinah whistled in appreciation. Let it never be said that Batman was anything but thorough. A question popped into her mind, though she felt she already knew the answer before he even said anything, "So if I'm locking the room down, how are you and I assume Robin, going to get in?"

Batman just turned a flat stare her direction, "We'll be there." Dinah just shook her head, but didn't refute the point.

Reaching into his coat pocket, Batman placed an invitation on the keyboard, "The Auction begins at Seven." Then he turned and left the room.

"Nice talk Bruce. Pleasure as always," Diana muttered, more to herself than to Dinah. Shaking her head in exasperation for the man's brusqueness, she turned back to Dinah, "So, I guess, you have auction to get ready for."

Dinah snorted "Apparently so…"

It would an interesting night.

BREAK

"Alright, so we pull this kid over right, and while my partner is giving 'em the third degree, I hear something coming from the tailgate. So, I go over, and the bed of this truck, it's got one of those big carbon-fiber tonneau covers, and I just smack the shit out of the top of the cover,"

Montoya snorted, shoveling lo mein into her mouth as her eyes stayed fixed to the screen in front of them, "What happened?" she asked, around a mouthful of noodles.

Percy was laughing now, as the memory played in his mind, and as he watched the tv in front of them, "I have never heard someone scream as loud as the kids in the back did. Well, naturally, that gets my partner's attention, so he comes strolling back and we pop the tailgate of the truck."

"How many kids were back there?" Montoya asked, laughing,

"Three, but that's not even the best part," Percy said, and he continued speaking as Montoya gave him an enthusiastic arm wave, "Well like I said, the kid behind the wheel of the truck was swerving, which is why we pulled them over. Thought they were drinking you know? Turns out, they were just trying to screw with their friends in the back, you know, throw 'em around a little? Well, one of kids in the trucked couldn't hold her liquor, so when we pull 'em out of the tailgate, she just turns, and projectile vomits all over Matthews,"

Montoya, who was already chuckling, burst into outright guffaws. "Anyway," Percy continued, when he got his own laughter under control, "We wrote all the kids up for Minors in Possession,"

"No drunk tank?" Montoya asked,

"Nah," Percy said, "Those MIP's are already a bit of bastard, no need to pile on top of it. Kid are gonna drink, so I say punish them for being dumb enough to get caught but there's no need to ruin their lives over it." the conversation lulled after that, falling into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional slurping of noodles and clanging of utensils. They had been cooped up in this small conference room in the precinct for nearly four hours. They had gotten a glimpse of someone walking with miss Silver on her way out of the building a few hours ago, however the man in question seemed to know where the camera's in the building had been, because every shot of his face had been blocked.

Montoya and Percy had then spent the time since then, combing through the footage of the adjoining building and traffic cams to see if they might catch their guy slipping up.

"Wait," Montoya said suddenly, "Pause it there!" Percy immediately did as she asked and paused the recording. On the screen was a large black four door suburban. It was almost passed the camera, and the front of the truck was already passing by the camera, however, the back-rear window was down, and there, looking directly at the camera, was a young girl, with snow-white hair.

"Atta girl," Percy muttered softly, he didn't know if it had been on purpose, but Percy chose to believe that Silver had known that she was in danger, and tried to do something to help out a possible investigation. He then rewound the tape, and slowed it down until the front of the truck came into view, and they finally got their first look at the man in question. They got lucky, they were driving directly into the sun, and the front seat was illuminated perfectly.

He had a hollow face, with concave cheek bones, and a sharp angular nose that angled slightly to the right, as though it had been broken and hadn't been reset properly. He had dark black hair, that laid low across his forehead. Pulling up a menu on the TV, Percy synced the recording with an app on the tablet to his right, taking a screenshot of the image, he then saved the image into a data file.

"Got you, you son of a bitch," Percy muttered, and shared a look of triumph with his partner. Sure, they still had to try and track the bastard down, but now that they had a face to identify, they could run him through the various criminal databases they had access to, and could hopefully begin tracking him down. The rational part of him told Percy that he shouldn't be celebrating just yet, and that the likelihood of trying to find him was slim to none, especially with a several day head-start, but Percy was determined to try and remain hopeful. It was the only way to stay semi-sane in this line of work.

Getting out of their chairs, the detectives hurried out of the room, and made their way back to their division. Once they were back at their desks, Percy took the tablet, and air-synched it to a database on his personal terminal. Uploading the file, he had taken, he took the data and began shaping the image in a program on the computer. There wasn't much they could do to clean up the image, but thankfully, the power and quality of modern traffic cameras had come a long way, and the image was clear enough to be more than useable.

Once Percy had shaped the image in a clean enough way that the databases could use it properly, he input the data into as many federal programs he could. NCIC, DOC, and more, the programs flashed for several moments, before a picture finally came onto the screen. The image on the computer was a much cleaner photo than the one the traffic camera had caught, and the man look essentially the same in the older photo as he did when the camera caught him.

Clicking on the information, a detailed report came, and Montoya began reading some of the highlights aloud over Percy's shoulder, "Alberto Romanji, twenty-eight years old, roughly six-foot-one, hundred and seventy pounds. He's never been arrested but has been questioned as a potential suspect for at least five suspected killings across the country," Percy clicked over to a different screen this one showing what the FBI had on him. Much of the information was the same, but some of it was illuminating,

"Shit," Montoya muttered, and pointed at the note that had caught her attention before Percy could ask anything. "Known associate to the Falcone Syndicate based out of Gotham, believed to be an enforcer or hitman for the family. All attempts at prosecution have been sidelined, and on more than one occasion crucial evidence has been known to go missing, or deemed admissible. Shit on a stick Metro…"

"Thought I left the mob behind when I left New York," Percy said softly, but Montoya snorted in derision,

"No such luck Metro, the Falcone's have connections to La Cosa Nostra that goes back nearly to the founding of the damn city. Damn," she grumbled, absently running a hand through her hair, "If our boy is connected, we're going to need to play this very carefully,"

"How?" Percy asked, "Not for nothing Monty, I have faith in us, but there is no way we find this guy on our own. And if I'm inferring this right, if we put a BOLO out on Al here, we risk running his ass underground. The Mob has connections we can only dream of, you have to know that if he gets spooked, we probably never get a clean shot at him,"

"Maybe, maybe not," Montoya pondered. Swiveling in his chair, Percy turned to his partner,

"What?"

"Well," she said carefully taking a look around to make sure no one else was around to hear their conversation. She didn't have hard proof, but she had her suspicions that more than one cop in the One-Seven was on Carmine Falcone's dime, "It's like you said, we know what this guy is after. We don't necessarily know why, but we know that he needs whatever it is that code unlocks. I know the Family; I've had more than my fair share of run-ins with them. They don't tolerate failures, or half-measure. I don't know if Alberto here was meant to kill Silver or not, but I'm guessing your earlier assessment was right, and that they're after that code. If he tries to cut and run before that code gets into the hands of the Family, our boy here can count his days left on this planet on one hand."

Percy crossed his arms over his chest as he sat back in his chair, "Alright then, it looks like you got something cooking in that big brain of yours Monty. What are you thinking,"

Montoya however, just shook her head, sending a meaningful look around the room as she did so. Percy got the hint, and made a mental note to have a talk with her later about just how bad things were in the precinct. She had painted a pretty dour picture that morning, but he still didn't quite know what to think of it all. Still, Percy just nodded in understanding and checked his watch.

"We should get going, the auction is going to be starting soon and I want to get there before we miss her."

Montoya groaned, she had been less than pleased when Percy had told her about what he had found, apparently, she and Selina Kyle had a bit of a history. Something about some bad run-ins when Kyle was still running around in leather.

"Are you sure we still need to go?" She begged, "I mean, we got the guy's photo now, we know what he's after-"

"No, we really don't," Percy insisted, "We know he wants the code; we don't know what that code is for. You really think that if Falcone is this desperate for it, we shouldn't chase down any potential lead to figure out what the hell it is?"

Montoya just groaned again, her head tilted skyward and her eyes closed, as though she were praying to the divine to grant her the willpower to get through this.

"You know I'm right Monty,"

"I know, I know," she relented,

Percy felt a little guilty, he knew that she was sacrificing some of the limited free time that they had in order to go to this auction. For Percy, putting this kind of overtime in was no big deal, it was just him, and honestly, when he wasn't working, he was going a little stir crazy. But he knew that he wasn't most people. Most people had social lives, friends outside of work, loved ones that wanted to see them when they came home. Not him though, most of his friends either still left on deployment, or dead, or all the way across the country. He made another mental note to find something to make it up for Montoya, take over an evening shift or something.

With that thought, he stood up from his chair, grabbed his sport coat, and followed his partner out of the precinct.

BREAK

"This is it; we've found it, we have found hell on earth. Congrats Metro, you should be proud."

"I'm not dignifying that,"

"You'd need to have dignity first."

"Oh hoh, someone thinks they're being cute."

"Bitch, you know I'm adorable,"

Percy just elected to ignore his snarking partner, and instead, strode into the overly ostentatious walkway into the Gotham Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art. It took Percy less than a second before he felt instantly uncomfortable. He had never been one for formal functions, hell the last time he had been to anything remotely black-tie was when an ex dragged him to some high-society function back in college.

Pausing in the ornate entrance hall, Percy realized that he had absolutely no idea where to start looking. He could hear Monty snort beside him, clearly understanding his hesitation. "This way Metro, if I know Kyle, she'll be skulking around the bar." Opting to trust his partner, Percy didn't respond and just followed her. As they walked, Percy did his best to ignore the clear looks of derision being directed his way. It wasn't like he wasn't used to dirty looks, he'd dealt with them literally every day of his life until entering the service, but but it still irked him.

Choosing to focus on his partner, mostly to keep himself from smacking a particularly haughty looking socialite, he fished his badge from under his neck and let it dangle over his dress shirt as he talked to Monty. "So," he said softly, "What's your history with Kyle?"

She turned to look at him, her expression frosty, "Who said that I had a history with her?"

"You did," Percy said simply, meeting her gaze evenly as he smoothly stepped out of the way of an oncoming waiter, "When you looked like you wanted to shoot me when I mentioned that was why we were coming here tonight,"

Montoya snorted but didn't reply at first, opting to weave around a group of women dressed in lavish evening gowns. One of them, a beautiful redhead, with dark green eyes, and a smattering of freckles, caught his gaze and held it as a contemplative look came across her face. Percy almost stopped in his tracks as he stared, there was something oddly familiar about the woman that he couldn't place. However, he quickly turned his attention away as he caught sight of Montoya on the other side of the group, and Percy had to nearly jog to catch up.

"My only history with Kyle," she was saying, having decided to come clean with him during their brief separation, "Is that I spent my first three years as a detective working the robbery desk, arresting her at least eight times, and never seeing her in jail for longer than a week. That's my goddamn problem with her. For the likes of Selina Kyle, rule of law might as well be guidelines at a goddamn roller-rink"

"Why detective, I had no idea you felt so strongly about me," came a smooth, seductive murmur that was entirely too close to be comfortable. Turning around, Percy took an involuntary step back as he found himself chest-to-chest with a stunningly pretty dark-haired woman. She wore a snug fitting black dress, and enough make-up to enhance her natural beauty. She had the air of a woman who understood that she was often the prettiest and smartest woman in the room, and it set Percy on edge immediately. Even had he not known what was in her file, Selina Kyle would have cut an intimidating presence.

"Hello there," she said softly, her gaze raking over his considerably larger form, "Detective Montoya, it's not my birthday, and yet you've brought me the most delightful little gift. Who might you be?" her voice was soft, barely audible over the rest of the din of the room, and held the same silkiness that he normally attributed to nymphs.

Percy knew that for the most part, this little game of hers, was just that, a game. A performance to throw him off. It was smart, pretty, intelligent women could often be very intimidating, and Percy was sure that her little trick worked the majority of the time. However, a man didn't enter puberty, and have water nymphs and dryads attempting to seduce him without growing at least some immunity to femininity.

"Detective Jackson," Percy said brusquely, his tone making it clear that he was not in the mood for her little games. "You must be Selina Kyle"

Montoya snorted, but her attention was suddenly diverted away from Percy and Kyle. Her eyes were locked on something across the room, and Percy turned to see what caught his normally unflappable partner's attention. However, what had her attention was not what he was expecting. She was staring at a woman, with rich scarlet hair and deep green eyes. Percy snorted, apparently, he was the only one getting distracted by red-haired women.

He turned his attention back to miss Kyle, who had been watching the byplay with an amused smirk on her face, "Well it certainly is a pleasure detective." raising a hand she delicately threw a stray strand of hair over her shoulder, somehow making the benign gesture somewhat erotic, "I haven't seen you around before, you must the new hotshot from Metropolis I've been hearing so much about." Once again, her gaze raked over his form unabashedly, "The rumors certainly didn't do you justice."

Well that was certainly interesting, to say the least. Percy could count on two hands the number of people who knew that he had moved to Gotham. Clearly miss Kyle was connected enough to know who the new players coming in and out of Gotham were. The information put him even more ill at ease and he found himself subconsciously tensing his shoulders. She clearly noticed the sudden change in his demeanor but ignored it.

"So, what can I do for one of Gotham's…finest?" she asked, "I promise that whatever it was, it wasn't me. I've been a very good girl," her eyes turned smoky as she whispered, "Well, mostly anyways."

Percy just ignored it, she was just trying to throw him off and make him uncomfortable. "You're not in any trouble ma'am," he said, making an effort to be as professional sounding as he could, "We're working a homicide investigation and we believe that you may have important knowledge pertaining to the victim,"

"Oh?" she asked, a look of utter curiosity crossing over her face, "Who was the poor soul this time?"

Percy shot a look over to his partner, he was going to leave the decision to his partner, but when he saw that Montoya's attention was still fixed on the woman with the red hair, Percy sighed and made a judgement call. He put a hand on her bare shoulder, ignoring the sudden heat emanating from the exposed flesh and leaned in closely to whisper into her ear.

The woman was about to make an indecent remark but stopped when Percy whispered softly into her ear, "Silver St. Cloud was shot in an alley two nights ago." And just like that, her entire demeanor changed. Her shoulders tightened and a pained and shocked expression came across her delicate features. The change only lasted for a fleeting second, but it told Percy more than he needed. As fast as she changed, her demeanor returned to the smoky and seductive persona she had introduced herself as, but he could see in her eyes a hardened anger that surprised him.

"Follow me detective, I know somewhere we can speak…more intimately."

Nodding Percy made to grab his partner's attention, but she just waved him off, "You go ahead Jackson, I need to…look into something," and before he could say anything she stormed off in the direction of the red-haired woman. Percy was confused by his partner's actions, there was something in her demeanor that told him that she was extremely agitated about something, but his gut was telling him that it was a personal matter and wasn't worth getting himself involved in, at least, not yet.

Instead he turned his attention back to Selina Kyle who was patiently waiting for him. She didn't seem fazed by the lack of his partner's presence and turned on her heel and began smoothly gliding through the room, in the direction of a doorway behind the large stage set up for the auction.

**Long AN: First things first, some house cleaning, I fucked up in chapter 4, Dinah was supposed to be wearing a brunette wig over her hair when she met Percy at the gym. I have since edited that chapter and re-uploaded it. Seems like a minor detail, but it is important to the story overall so if you didn't want to go back and re-read it, I saved you some time here. **

**Alright so this is the last warning, as I've said before, this story is majorly AU. And by that, I mean I'm literally just throwing PJO canon out the window cause fuck it, this is the story I want to tell. You'll learn more as the story progresses, but yes, just to clear it up, Percy was not part of the Seven, he was still very active in the war effort, and played a decidedly major role in the story, but he was not the hero we read about in Uncle Rick's books. He's something different. I also want to get this out of the way now; this is not going to be one of those "Poseidon has another kid and Percy is ignored and betrayed by all of his friends" stories. I hate that shit, and I have no patience for it. This is one hundred-percent not that, instead it's something that came to mind after reading other very well written stories on this site, as well as my own personal ideas. All of that being said, thank you guys so much for all of the support this story has gotten, seriously, the amount of positive feedback I've been getting is unreal. I'm glad you all are enjoying the ride, and I hope you'll enjoy the things that are to come, because holy shit things are going to start popping off. As always, let me know what you think, and please, let me hear your theories as to who this Percy is, and what happened to get him where he is now. I would love nothing more than to hear them, and I think I've sprinkled enough hints to give some clues. Thanks again, stay safe, and I love you all!**

**Love,**

**LilDB**


	8. Hero Found

Dinah sighed as she fiddled with her gloves. Waiting was the worst part of jobs like this. Most heroes were people of action; they were act now and act fast types of personalities. It was a necessity when lives were on the line. And so, having to wait for seemingly hours at a time for a threat that might not even be real, could be hell on the nerves and the patience.

Her impatience was only doubled by what Diana had revealed about Gotham's newest detective. Part of her was still floored by the basics of it. The smaller more rationale part of her was telling her that the existence of demigods shouldn't be all that surprising. They had fought against myths and legends before, and that was nothing of the fact that she had at least three different aliens in her phone's contact list. But still, the knowledge that the gods of old were real, and had children running around doing their bidding was a troubling thought.

There was something immensely off-putting knowing that there were hundreds of children out there, born only to serve to the bidding of beings with power that bordered on incomprehensible. Then again, perhaps it wasn't as unsurprising as it should have been. Her gaze unconsciously drifting to her partner for the evening, an athletic sixteen-year old girl with long auburn hair that poked out the back of a bat themed cowl.

When Diana had first told her of the demigods, Dinah had been disgusted. Even as a trained psychologist, she couldn't fathom the kind of arrogance involved in having a child for the sole purpose of doing their bidding. To throw kids not even old enough to drive or vote, into a war that had nothing to with them. But the more she considered it, the more she found herself unnerved by the amount of similarities between the lives of demigods and mortals. It wasn't all that different to people like Batman, Arrow, or the Flash taking in their young charges and throwing them into the war against the evils of the world. Hell, it wasn't even all that different to normal kids getting drafted into military service during times of war.

She stifled a groan and tried to fight off an oncoming headache. Her antsy-ness was distracting her, which was always unacceptable but doubly so when she was here with one of the young…partners. She was supposed to be setting an example, not getting distracted by internal philosophical debates.

Thankfully, she was brought out of her musings by the sound of the click of the lock to the gallery room. She shot a look to Batgirl, who had been fiddling with something on her gauntlet, and with a nod, both heroes hid themselves inside the large storage room. Dinah hid herself between a stack of cracks, and positioned herself in a spot where she could sell see the majority of the room through a small crack between two crates. It took her a few moments, but she did eventually spot Batgirl's hiding place, among the top rows of a stack of crates near the back of the room.

Dinah figured that this wasn't the start to the heist, she was having her doubts if there would even be a heist if she were honest, but she preferred to err on the side of caution whenever possible.

Just after she had gotten into position, the door opened and voices began filtering into the storage room.

"See, I told you I could get us in here, you should have a little faith in me detective," came the silky voice that Dinah recognized. Her eyes widened in surprise as Selina Kyle strutted backwards into the room, her attention not on the room itself, but on whomever was coming with her. Dinah's fists began to tighten as her jaw clenched. She had thought that Selina had gone clean for good this time. She had told her as such the last time she had seen the former thief. Something about being serious enough about her desire for Batman to give up on heisting for good. Dinah knew she shouldn't have bought the act though. She knew better than most that some people truly couldn't help themselves.

If she had been surprised by Selina, then her companion caused Dinah's jaw to drop.

"You know, I should probably arrest you for that. I'm like, ninety-nine percent sure that having a lock-pick set violates your parole." said the smooth and deep voice of Percy Jackson, as his tall frame lumbered into the room. What in the hell was he doing here? There was absolutely no way that this could a coincidence. There was no way. One person did not just keep accidentally stumbling onto superheroes like this. Her thoughts went back to Diana and what she had told her, and Dinah tried to calm herself and reassure herself that if Percy Jackson had Diana's trust, then she should be ok with that. That was when she remembered the phone call she had overheard. Her breathing returned to normal as the tight constricting in her chest began to release.

Ok so maybe Percy Jackson just had the worst possible luck on the planet, and that was why he kept having these close interactions with superheroes. Part of her wanted to confront them, if Bats' plan worked, then they would be right in the line of fire, but her curiosity warred with her instincts.

Her curiosity won out.

Resigning herself to keep to her hiding spot, Dinah blinked in rapid succession, and activated her contact lens' recording device, as she listens into the conversation.

Selina was speaking as Percy closed the door behind him, "What happened," she demanded, and for a moment, Percy hesitated. Selina crossed her arms and glared at the man. "Detective, if you want my help, then I need to know what's going on here."

Sighing, Percy rubbed a hand through his hair, "I suppose I don't need to tell you that what you're about to hear is strictly confidential?" she snorted in derision and Percy seemed to take that as a sign that she wasn't going to say anything. "Well," he began, leaning back against the close door and matching Selina's stance, "Like I told you. Two nights ago, Montoya and I were called to a scene at an alley on the corner of Snyder and Miller. When we got there, we discovered the body of Silver St. Cloud. She had been shot three times. Twice in the back as she tried to run away and once more between the eyes." Percy's voice was hardened, and he spoke thickly with emotion.

Dinah looked briefly away, her eyes catching Batgirl in her hiding spot, watching the conversation intently, her shoulders tight, her eyes hard, and her jaw clenched. Dinah then understood that this investigation must have been why Percy had been at the young girl's school the other day. Dinah turned her attention back to the conversation,

"Dammit," Selina said under her breath, he eyes dropping from Percy, to stare intently at the ground.

"I take it you were close to the family?" Percy asked, pulling out a pen and small notebook. Apparently, he was a little more old-school than most of the detectives she knew.

Selina nodded, her eyes leaving the floor to stare harshly into Percy's face.

"I've known Grace and Alexander for years, they helped me get my start in the business. I interned as Grace's personal assistant after college. I…I'd known Silver since she was in diapers." She was quiet for a moment. Percy was writing something in his pad. When he stopped, he looked back up, but for a moment he didn't say anything. He just let the woman have a moment to quietly compose herself.

"How can I help?" Selina asked after a few moments, wiping at her eyes as she tried to stem the potential flow of tears,

"Do the St. Clouds have any enemies? Anybody who would be angry enough to target their daughter to get to them?" Percy asked without any preamble,

Selina adopted an almost pitying expression, "Sweetheart," she said, her tone on the cusp of being condescending, "Grace and Alex are some of the most influential dealers of high value pieces on the planet. They have galleries on nearly every continent, every major city, and their family dates back to damn near the founding of Gotham. Yes, they have enemies. Any number of whom, would not hesitate to hurt Silver to get to them."

"Anything that _stands_ _out_, miss Kyle. You said you were close to the family. Did either of the parents say anything that stands out. Imply anything, that seemed…off."

Selina was quiet for several seconds, her eyes narrowed in thought, "Well...there was something. A few weeks ago, I was helping them plan the movement of several key pieces to their gallery. Grace and I had been talking, and something…slipped out. It was so casual that I didn't think anything of it at the time."

"What was it?" Percy asked, and Dinah could hear the mounting excitement in his voice,

"Grace said that Christian Falcone had been more…hostile, lately."

"Falcone?" Percy asked, "As in the crime family?"

"Hon, I know you're new in town, but you need to have someone bring you up to speed. Yes, _that_ Falcone. Christian is the eldest son. Grace said that he'd been sending threatening messages."

Dinah could almost taste the sarcasm in Percy's next statement, "And you didn't think that a threat from the son of biggest mob boss in town was concerning?"

Selina scoffed, "Don't be deliberately combative detective. Christian's had an overinflated sense of self-worth his entire life. He's been sending vaguely threatening messages to Grace for years. It happens so regularly, it was almost a game. 'Oh, what was it this time, threatening to have our entire gallery mysteriously burned to the ground? Or maybe a few pieces from our next delivery get stolen?' Forgive me for not thinking anything of it."

"Why was he so obsessed with the St. Clouds in particular?" Percy asked,

Selina shrugged, "Christian fancies himself something of a dealer. He's not particularly good at it, wouldn't know a Kahlo from a Cézanne. But because of who daddy is, people entertain his delusions. Well, everyone except me and the St. Clouds. We won't be bullied by some wannabe gangster who doesn't understand his place."

"Any idea what he was threatening them with this time?" Percy asked, once again writing quickly in his pad.

Selina frowned again, biting her lip and crossing her arms as she tried to think,

"No," she admitted after a moment, "We were close, but they held their cards pretty close to the chest. Whatever it was that Christian had said this time, she wouldn't tell me. If I'm honest, that alone is enough to be scary." her brow furrowed for a moment, before she looked up at him, "Why are you asking me all these questions, shouldn't you be talking to them? To Grace and Alexander? Where are they?"

Percy shook his head, "We don't know. I was actually hoping you might have an answer to that. I've called them at least a dozen times since we found Silver, but when someone does answer the line, I'm given the goddamn ring around."

"That's…that's not normal," Selina mused softly, once more biting at her lip worriedly, "Where Silver is…was…Where Silver was involved, Grace and Alexander would tear the whole damn world apart if it made her happy. They loved their baby girl."

"Would you mind giving them a call sometime for me then?" Percy asked, "They might be more inclined, or at least their assistants might be more inclined, to speak to you than to a cop."

Selina nodded, "I don't bring my phone with me to work functions, otherwise I'd do it right now."

Percy nodded a quiet thanks, before he pulled his phone out of his pocket, he swiped through it for a moment, "One last thing, miss Kyle," he pulled the phone up, and showed her a picture of something, the screen was facing away from her, so Dinah couldn't see what it was, "Do you recognize this bracelet?" he asked,

Selina squinted at it, grabbing the phone out of Percy's hand so she could get a better look at the image, "That's Silver's bracelet," she murmured softly, not looking away from the photo. "Grace gave that to her for her birthday a few weeks ago." she looked up, "Where did you find this?"

"In a pile of garbage, a few feet away from where we found Silver. It doesn't have any other significant meaning to it? Other than being a birthday present?"

Selina looked at him oddly for a moment, before shaking her head, "Not that I know of, why?"

Percy ignored the question, "Any idea where this particular piece was made?"

Selina's wary look only increased, "I don't know." She said slowly, her eyes narrowing suspiciously, "But Grace usually went to Kleinman's, near Morrison and Kane." she handed the phone back to him, "What's going on detective?" she demanded. For a moment, Dinah thought Percy was going to outright refuse to answer, his jaw was set tightly, and looked like he was thinking over his next few words very carefully,

"I'm not at liberty to tell you everything ma'am." He said eventually, "Especially since we're still putting the pieces together ourselves, but we think that what happened to Silver, was because of that little bracelet. No, I won't say any more on the matter, but it's important. Can I trust you not to be candid with that information?" He asked.

Dinah was thrown off by the admission, it seemed out of place. Granted, she could hardly say that she knew the man, but still, the detectives she knew weren't exactly forthcoming with that kind of information. Maybe he just felt bad since Selina was close to the victims, or maybe he was looking to establish relationships like he had with Olsen and Lane back in Metropolis. Having someone like Selina Kyle in your corner would be undoubtably be an asset in a city like Gotham.

Percy was quiet again for a few moments, when he spoke again, his voice was low, and somber, "We know who was responsible for the murder. Got his name, picture, and we can put him with the victim the day of the attack. Only problem is, he's little more than a hired thug. Bringing him in isn't going to be the end. Whoever hired him, unless we can pin him down, is going to be free to keep doing this kind of shit for a long time. So," Percy fished around in his pants pocket for a moment, before handing Selina a business card, "If you can think of anything else, that's my personal number, and the one next to it connects to my desk at the precinct. Please give me a call, Miss Kyle."

Selina nodded, tucking the card away into her clutch, neither moved for a few moments. Both just staring awkwardly at one another, "Do me a favor detective," Selina finally said, "Find the bastard responsible for this. And when you do," her eyes narrowed to little more than slits, "Let me get the first crack at him,"

"Miss Kyle," Percy began, "You know I can't-" he stopped abruptly, his back stiffening as he suddenly lurched forward, wrapping his enormous frame around Selina, "GET DOWN!" he roared,

Just as the wall beside them, exploded.

BREAK

Montoya pushed her way through the crowd, as she tried to make her way towards her target. What was _she_ doing here? She'd never said anything about running in these kinds of circles before. Montoya wasn't sure why she was reacting the way she was, or feeling the way she was. It wasn't exactly as if she had been lied to, not like she had asked too deeply about her personal life. But still, it had been a shock to see her here, and Montoya wanted answers. Besides, she didn't even want to have to come here tonight; sure, Metro was right about the lead. But that didn't mean she had to like it, and that sure as hell didn't mean she had to play tag along in the questioning. Metro was a big boy; he could handle it. Besides, if she was alone with Kyle for more than five minutes, Montoya was worried she'd deck the other woman.

She was nearly on top of her intended target, when she felt a cool hand on her shoulder. Turning around, her hand instinctually went to the sidearm she normally carried on her belt, only to remember that she and Metro had left their sidearms back at the precinct.

She really hated the new regulations sometimes.

She spun around, throwing the hand off of her shoulder as she did so, and faced the owner of the hand. Though, she positioned herself in such a way, that she could still maintain a slight visual in her peripheral on her intended target. The owner of the hand was a petite little redhead. Auburn curls brought up into a fashionable bun, with shocking green eyes, a smattering of freckles, and a neat little green dress, that matched with her hair and eyes in a fetching manner.

"Can I help you?" Montoya asked, her question coming off a tad ruder than she'd necessarily intended.

The woman, who was maybe about Percy's age, wasn't bothered by Montoya's rudeness. "That man you were with when you came in, the tall one, with the green eyes and black hair. He wouldn't happen to be Percy Jackson, would he?"

That put Montoya on her guard. Folks in Gotham didn't just ask after people so casually, not unless they wanted something. Montoya was very much missing the comfort of her sidearm at the moment.

"Who's asking?" she said slowly, knowing full well that it was as good of a confirmation of her partner's identity.

The woman just tilted her head in amusement, before smiling, "Huh," she grunted in surprise, her smile growing somewhat, "So he really is still alive." Montoya wanted to comment, ask the woman what the hell she was talking about, but she never got the chance, "When he comes back, tell him to find me. Let him know that Rachel Elizabeth Dare would like to talk to him." And with that, the strange woman turned on her heel, and strode away, back into the throngs of people.

Montoya stared after her for a moment, briefly wondering what the hell her partner had been involved with, before ignoring it for the time being. She had more pressing issues at the moment. Such as why the woman she'd been seeing for the past several months, had decided to leave out the fact that apparently, she wined and dined with Gotham elites.

She pushed through the last ring of bystanders, when Montoya locked eyes with her, the redheaded woman's pale green eyes widened in surprise as they met Montoya's. She was tall, just shy of six feet, athletically built, and she cut an intimidating figure in the small little black dress.

"Renee," She said in surprise, drawing the attention of the socialites she was with, Montoya ignored them, leveling a look at her…partner she supposed.

"Kate," Montoya said, trying to her level best to keep the ice out of her voice. She wasn't sure why she was so upset by the woman's presence. It wasn't as though Kate had lied to her about anything. But it was more about the secrecy of it all. When they'd first gotten together, Kate had wanted to keep things simple, no names, no feelings, just comfort. Montoya had, naively, agreed.

They'd both been idiots. Those types of relationships never ended without one or both of them getting attached to the other. But they'd tried to maintain a reasonable distance in each other's lives.

Hell, Montoya didn't even know the woman's last name yet she knew there was a beauty mark on the underside of her right thigh.

But things had changed in the last few weeks. Kate had been getting seemingly more attached, had been making an effort to have a semi-stable relationship. Something that, according to her, she'd never really had before. Which was why Montoya had been patient, because she did genuinely care for the woman, and she was giving it a shot. But that being said, Montoya still didn't feel like she knew the woman. Hard to know someone when you don't even know what their last goddamn name was. The woman had been…persistent in her quest to keep that from Montoya, and for the most part, she'd respected that. She was a detective with Major Crimes, if she'd really wanted to know who Kate was, it wouldn't have taken much to figure it out.

Still, seeing her here, was a bit of a punch to the gut. A reminder that, in spite of their growing relationship, she still knew next to nothing about the woman.

Kate strode forward, away from the crowd of curious socialites, and grabbed Montoya by the arm, dragging her away. Montoya allowed herself to be taken by the arm, normally, she was the more dominant of the two, so she tended to let Kate run with it when she chose to. Kate guided her until they found a slightly more secluded spot, on the other side of the stage from where She'd seen Metro and Kyle disappear.

"What are you _doing_ here?" Kate asked, looking more than a little panicked.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Montoya shot back,

Kate glared at her, "Please don't be childish about this Renee, what the hell are you doing here. I know for a fact that this isn't your scene."

"I thought that I could have said the same to you," Montoya said snidely. To her credit, Kate did shift uncomfortably, but she regained her composure and just stared at her. Montoya bit back a sigh, and rolled her eyes. The woman could so damn stubborn. Reaching into her back pocket, Montoya withdrew her badge, flashing the shield and her identification, "I'm a cop, remember? I'm here with my partner running down a lead. Like you said, this isn't exactly my first choice of after-hours fun."

Kate flushed, and averted her eyes, shifting her weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, "I-this, ugh," she groaned, running a hand through her short, red hair, "This wasn't how I wanted to tell you," she muttered,

"Tell me what?"

"I told you my parents were former military right?" she asked suddenly the change in topic nearly throwing Montoya off-balance,

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, dad's journey to the army wasn't exactly…traditional." Kate began, "His family, my family, come from old money. Like, really, really old money. When he was eighteen, dad had a falling out with the rest of the family, ran off and joined the military where he met mom."

"Ok, and what does that have to do with anything,"

Kate glared at her, "I'm getting to that. So shut up and let me finish," she growled, before grumbling under her breath for a few seconds. "Screw it," she finally said, "My name is Katherine Kane, my father is Jacob Kane, yes, as in _those_ Kane's. I'm here because Bruce, you know, Bruce Wayne, is my cousin."

Montoya wasn't someone who was stunned very often. She'd seen a lot of decidedly weird, and surprising things in her time with the GCPD. But, finding out that she'd been sleeping with, and semi-dating the heiress of one of the oldest and wealthiest families in Gotham? That was…not what she had been expecting.

"Oh," she said simply. It certainly explained the woman's reluctance to tell her who she really was. Why they always met in semi-secret, in places that were well out of the way. Away from the spotlight, the news hounds, and anybody willing to dig up dirt on the affluent family. Montoya hadn't disagreed or even thought twice about the request. Things had been changing, true, and it was getting easier for people like her, however, being a woman in the GCPD could be hard enough. Being an open lesbian on top of that? Even with Jim Gordon as commissioner, it could be a monumental hurdle to overcome. One she hadn't been particularly ready to try.

"Yeah, oh," Kate said quietly,

Montoya crossed her arms and looked down at the floor. "Sorry," she said softly after a few moments of awkward silence, "I don't-I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine, really," Kate insisted, "It was bound to happen eventually…I just…" She trailed off, and Montoya was left with the overwhelming desire to try and comfort her, but she didn't, not here. Not now,

"It doesn't change anything-for me, that is." She said, "I didn't corner you to scare you…" she sighed, "I guess, I just wanted answers? I don't know, I'm bad at all of," she gestured between them vaguely, "This."

"What, exactly is this?" Kate asked, looking uncomfortable,

"I don't really know," Montoya admitted, biting her lip, "I like you, Kate. Like, a lot, but-"

She was interrupted by a monumental explosion. The entire building shook at its foundations, as smoke sirens began to wail in the room, and smoke started pouring out from under the door of the room that Metro and Kyle had just gone through. Immediately, Montoya grabbed Kate by the arm and was leading her as fast as possible out of the building. Part of her, a very large part of her, was screaming that she needed to go back after Metro. See what was going on and more importantly, if he was ok. She'd just gotten him as a partner, and was only just beginning to think of him as friend. She did NOT want to lose another goddamn partner.

But her instincts were leading her at the moment, as they so often did in crisis situations. And her instincts were telling her that her priority was not the former Navy Seal, but the hundreds of compact civilians. More importantly, her priority was getting Kate to safety. Former military or not, she was not going to let the woman she was beginning to really like be put in unnecessary danger.

Her immediate plan was to get Kate out of the building, she had a loaded carbine in the trunk of her car. Standard issue fare for a city like Gotham, the only trouble would be making sure that she could fight through the mass of screaming socialites in order to get there. She assumed, based on the direction of the explosion, that whoever was there, was after the art, not the people. Meaning that she would hopefully, not have to worry about someone smashing through the front door, and taking hostages.

As she dragged Kate further away, she could only pray that Percy would be able to take care of himself long enough for her to get back to him.

BREAK

"Really?" she growled, looking up at the sky, "Couldn't have warned me about that one?", as always though, she received no such response. Par for the course really, in the magnanimous shit-show that was her life.

On the whole, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, didn't have much to complain about. Ever since the final battle with she-who-shall-not-be-named, her life had turned around. She didn't have to live at the camp these days, which meant she could have an actual life. Her career as an artist had even taken off in the last few years, which was why she had even been at that damn auction to begin with. A couple of her own personal pieces were part of the event, and she had wanted to be there to support them, and maybe network a little bit. She should have known better, should have listened to her when Annabeth tried to warn her about going to Gotham of all places. But no, she had to be miss independence.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Still, the event wasn't a total wash. Assuming that she got out of the attack still breathing of course. She had seen Percy Jackson! Percy, freaking Jackson! As in, the guy that everyone had thought had been dead, as in the guy behind the final charge at Half-Blood hill. The hero of the final battle. The one who nearly sunk the camp into the sea when his entire battalion had been slaughtered.

It had taken her a few minutes, but she was sure that it had been him. She'd recognize eyes like that anywhere, plus, the familial resemblance to Helen was unmistakable. Of course there were some noticeable difference but she was certain that she was right!

Then the woman she'd talked to had confirmed it.

Percy Jackson was alive. And apparently a cop.

And he was hot. Holy shit, was he hot.

Thunder cracked overhead and she glared, "Oh, so my life is in peril and that doesn't get a response, but I think a guy is attractive and you get all uppity? Stupid freaking…" she grumbled to herself, as she tried not to get trampled by the stampede of people, all pushing and shoving as they tried to get out of the cramped museum as fast as possible. There was another minor explosion, and a new set of screaming panic arose from the horde. Rachel, used to terrifying situations by that point in her life, pressed herself up against a far wall. Watching in muted interest as two dark shapes shot across the ceiling overhead, in the direction of the action.

"Huh, Batman and Robin." she mused, "Neat,"

She wasn't in much of a rush if she were honest, from the sounds of things, the fighting was being contained to one of the back rooms. Clearly, whoever was behind the attack, was after the collection of paintings in whatever store-room was being used. To her, that meant that whoever was responsible, wasn't interested in dealing with the people at the auction, just the paintings. Which meant that there was really no need for her to rush, and potentially get trampled, in some crazed dash to one of the exits.

She watched in slight bemusement as the lady she had identified as Percy's partner ran outside the building, leading a pretty redhead by the arm as she did so. That was interesting, she would have assumed her first worry would have been Percy, but then again, she hadn't seen a gun on the woman. She thought she remembered reading somewhere about a new ordinance by the city, maintaining that off-duty cops weren't allowed to carry their sidearms with them after hours. Maybe she was going to grab it from her car. She didn't know, and honestly didn't care.

The crowd was finally beginning to thin, so she pushed herself off the wall, and began a leisurely stroll down toward the exit, she would stick around for a while, maybe try and corner Percy when he was alone at some point, she had questions. Questions she wanted him to answer, if for nothing else, then to maybe satisfy Helena's worry. Poor thing had been beside herself when Percy had disappeared. To go eighteen years without a direct blood-relative, only to find out that you had a pseudo half-brother out there, and then for him to disappear? The girl had been a mess. Thank the gods for Annabeth, otherwise it could have gotten ugly for the daughter of Poseidon.

However, all of those plans came to an abrupt halt, as the door to back rooms suddenly burst open, and Selina Kyle sprinted through the opening. Her dress was torn, and her face and hair covered in soot and debris. As soon as she was clear of the door, she dived to the side, taking cover behind the nearby wall, as a strange beam of light, shot through the space she had been occupying. The odd yellow beam smacked into the side of the stage, and the stage exploded in a cloud of splinters.

The bark of a pistol echoed through the previously quieting hall, reverberating off the walls of the large room. Rachel could distantly make out the sound of fighting, someone was screaming but Rachel couldn't make out who it was, or what was being said.

There were a few more bursts of gunfire, before the large form of Percy came bounding out the same doorway Selina had emerged from. He dove to the opposite side as the art dealer, pressing himself up against the wall, as he reloaded a magazine. Guess Percy decided not to come in unarmed, Rachel though to herself,

His suit jacket had been lost at some point, leaving him in the now dirty, and soot-stained undershirt, and the shoulder-holster slung over his back. There were a few holes in the fabric, as there was a small cut forming on the side of his temple, that was already bleeding a fair amount. He chanced a look around the doorway, before popping off three more shots in rapid succession. There was a cry of surprise and pain from the other side of the doorway, as Percy's shots found purchase in something.

Something in Rachel's subconscious was telling her to run, to get out of there while she still could. That voice however, was being ignored, in favor of the utter curiosity that befell her. She'd only met Percy Jackson once, it had been a brief meeting, shortly before the final battle at the camp. He'd been nice enough, if a bit stern, but that was expected of someone like him. However, she'd never actually seen him fight. Never seen the truth behind the legend, and she wanted to see it with her own eyes, before it was too late.

But it _was_ too late.

The wall behind Rachel suddenly and violently exploded outward, as a small form was blasted through the fine wood paneling. Between the shockwave of the blast, and the small body that collided with her, Rachel was tossed from her feet. She soared through the hair, all the wind having left her lungs, before landing harshly on the floor of the museum, in a painful pile.

She couldn't breathe. Every time she tried to inhale a lungful of air, her body refused to inhale, her mouth just making small gasping sounds. The pressure on her stomach and ribs was becoming painful, and she wanted desperately to get up, but her body wouldn't cooperate. Then, the decision was abruptly taken out of her hands, as a large, beefy fist, reached down, and plucked the small body off of her chest, before s second hand reached out, and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her onto her rear.

She still could barely breath, but the minute bits of oxygen that were making it through her heaving gasps were enough to keep her conscious. The hand tugged at her hair, as she felt a shiver of cold, as something metallic was pressed against her temple.

"This was a fucking disaster!" Said a feminine voice, coming from the person holding onto her hair, "First we walk right into a goddamn trap, then Ten gets fucking shot! We need to get out of here!" She wasn't talking to her, Rachel realized, as she tried to look to her side to see who the woman holding her was talking to. She couldn't see much, but she could make out some kind of mixture of gold, red, white, and black. It was a wild combination, and her head was starting to throb, making it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

"I know goddamnit!" Growled a masculine voice to the right of her. "And I saw that bat-brat tie up Jack!"

The grip on the back of her hair tightened, and she whimpered,

"Alright, listen up!" the woman holding her called out, "We're going to walk out of here, and we'll be taking our new friends here with us. Anyone tries anything," There was a 'BANG' so loud, and so close, that her ears started ringing. The noise was so loud that it seemed to almost crawl up inside of her ear, run the gamut to her brain, and kick her squarely in the brain stem a few times. That was how much it hurt. Her eyes watered, and she was almost certain her eardrum had burst from the proximity of the shot. She shakily tried to lift her head up, to meet Percy's gaze.

His eyes were shinning in anger, the sea-green orbs shimmering with power, the same way that Helen's did when she got angry. If Rachel had not been exposed to the sensation before, she likely wouldn't have been able to identify it, but being around Helen exposed her to what she was feeling. The air had suddenly grown muggy, and heavy. As though the room had suddenly been dropped in the middle of a bog. Rachel began to sweat. Whereas previously, the room had been cool; a thick, soup-like heat, now permeated the building. It was heavy, and the air sat on her bruised chest like a brick.

Yet, as much as the sensation was disquieting, it was also comforting. It was familiar. Rachel knew this feeling, this sensation. Had felt it before, had spent summers around it. She knew when a child of the sea was using their power, and at that moment, Percy was certainly doing that. She recognized something else however, Percy apparently had training in Mist magics. Granted, she didn't have much exposure to the magic, given that she saw through it, but after spending enough time around the mythological world, she'd grown accustomed to the sensation associated with mist manipulation.

It felt similarly to when a demigod channeled a substantial amount of their own power. The world felt heavier, and there was an overwhelming sense of…something, that fell across a person's chest. It was a strange sensation. Almost like the sensation one felt when they knew they'd forgotten something important, but couldn't remember what.

She looked back at Percy, his eyes flashing, almost glowing with the force of the power he was wielding. She felt the form behind her stiffen, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw as everyone else in the room stiffened in place, and stopped what they were doing.

"Remove your weapon from the woman, get and step aside. Same for you with the crown. Step away from the boy, and stand aside." Instantly, Rachel felt the barrel of the gun fall from her back, as the grip on her hair fell away. The second the woman's fingers left her hair, she was turned, her fist cocked back. She swing and delivered the strongest punch she could to the nose of the woman who had been holding her.

"Don't touch my godsdamned hair you bitch," you spat out, and kicked the woman in the side for good measure. She then turned back towards Percy and ran over, putting the larger man between her and the people who had attacked her. She took a good look at the people who had tried to use her as a hostage then. They were both wearing what looked like modified biker-jackets. With a color scheme of red and black, with gold and white trim. On the breast of the man's jacket, was a symbol of the king of hearts, like a playing card. The woman had a similar symbol, but hers was the queen. Both were wearing masks with the same playing card motif.

She then saw the full scale of what was happening. Not only were the two criminals under Percy's spell, but so was everyone else in the room. To Percy's left, were three costumed heroes, that Rachel recognized as Batman, Batgirl, and Black Canary. Over by the door, stood Selina, also enraptured by the spell. Standing a few feet from the enraptured playing cards, was a young boy, that she recognized as Robin.

"Damn," She couldn't help the whisper of awe that escaped her. She'd heard of some demigods that had strong power over the mist, but she'd never seen someone do what Percy was doing. Not to that effect at any rate.

"Batman, Canary," Percy called out. "You're going to go over there, and cuff those two. Robin, elbow the man in the stomach. When you did that, this woman over here managed to subdue the other long enough for Canary and Batman to act. You tackled them to the ground, and arrested them both while I had their line of sight with my weapon drawn. Now move."

Instantly, the group did as they were bade, robin turned around and promptly sunk his elbow deep into the midsection of the man who'd held him hostage. A few seconds later the two criminals were cuffed and prone on the ground. Percy snapped his fingers, and the room blinked as one. Not even aware that their memories and actions had all been manipulated by the power of the gods.

Percy let out a breath of relief, as he turned away from the criminals, and addressed her. She almost froze, he had an intense look in his eyes, and the sea-green orbs were still shining in power. It was a look she had seen in Jason from time to time. The aura of someone who commanded, who led.

"Are you alright ma'am?" he asked softly, looking at her so intently that she her knees shook a little. She didn't trust her voice at the moment, so she just nodded. Percy seemed to understand, so he gave her a reassuring smile. Or at least, that's what she thought it was supposed to be. It really looked more like a grimace. "We'll talk more once all of this is settled down," he whispered down to her, and she nodded, noticing as she did so, that Batman had finished talking to Robin about something, and was stalking over to them.

Percy followed her gaze and turned, looking at the large armored vigilante evenly.

The man's eye's narrowed behind the large cowl, "Detective Jackson," the Dark Knight said, his voice coming out in a gruff growl.

"We need to talk,"

**AN: Alright, gonna be honest, this has felt weird writing, given the current state of things here in the State's. Regardless, I love this story, and I love these characters, so I'm going to continue writing. Thanks for all the love this weird little story has gotten, I'm glad so many of you seem to be enjoying it. I took some creative liberties with the Mist, because fuck it right? My story, my rules. It's a little different to the normal way that Percy fights, but given the way my Percy operates, it felt fitting to me. Either way, so far only one person has correctly guessed who this Percy really is. I think I've layed it out pretty clearly in this chapter, but let me know what you think! If you like this story, please check out some of my other works, I think you'll enjoy them! As always, thanks for all the love and support. Stay safe, and love you all!**

**Love,**

**LilDB**


	9. Matters of Family

Percy bit back a groan, the absolute last thing he wanted to do was have a conversation with the Bat. But he also had dealt enough with capes, to know better than to try and avoid a conversation. So instead of telling the Bat where Percy thought he could shove his utility belt, he just told the strange redhead to give her statement to his partner, who Percy had seen rush back into the building, a rifle tucked in her arms, but had relaxed at seeing Percy's dismissive wave.

After the girl left, Percy turned to look at the Bat,

"What do you want?" He asked gruffly. If the man was at all turned away by the tone of Percy's voice, he didn't show it, instead he stepped in close,

"I don't trust you,"

Percy snorted, "That makes two of us pal,"

The Bat didn't budge, "What are you doing here?"

"My fucking job, what're you doing?" Percy shot back

The Bat didn't respond, just continued to glare at Percy, who was in no mood to deal with whatever the Bat was trying to pull. All of Percy's patience and goodwill for the day had evaporated when those clowns had ambushed him and Selina.

Wait…

He turned, suddenly realizing that he hadn't seen Selina since they'd charged out of the kill-box.

She was gone.

"Son of a bitch," he swore quietly under his breath,

"What did you want with Selina Kyle?" the man demanded, but Percy ignored him again. He wasn't going to put up with the third-degree from some lunatic dressed like a bat. Instead, he just turned away, and began walking back to the hall he had shot the guy with Ten of Clubs mask.

If nothing else, then the potential isolation would also allow him to screw around with the Bat's brain using the mist again.

He also was really hoping he hadn't killed the man in the Ten of Clubs mask; he didn't know how things worked in Gotham, but following a deadly shoot, was always a lengthy investigation, that usually required Percy be taken off of any active cases while the Internal Affairs Bureau investigated what had happened. They were already running on thin ice with the investigation as it was, and Percy didn't want to lose out on the new potential lead he had _just_ come across.

He also counted himself lucky, that he always carried with him a registered off-duty weapon. Something he had taken to doing at Roger's insistence when he was still a rookie.

He strode into the empty hall, the billowing of a fabric behind him, telling Percy that the Bat was following him into the hallway.

Stepping into the hall, it didn't take Percy long to find his man. He was tied up on the ground, next to the unconscious form of a man in a Jack of Hearts mask. There was no sign of blood on the ground, which was good. Percy reached down, and checked for a pulse. It was there, firm and strong, then he checked where he had shot the man, two clean holes in the jacket he had been wearing. Fingering the holes, he felt the firm shell of a ballistics vest, and Percy unconsciously let out a sigh of relief.

He hadn't killed the man, clearly, he'd just been stunned enough by the impact of the shells, that one of the capes had been able to take advantage and knock him unconscious, before tying him up. There would likely be a brief investigation, but Percy somehow doubted he'd be too tied up by things. The Royal Flush Gang was rather infamous after all.

There was a hand on his shoulder and Percy spun, making a conscious effort not to deck the owner of the hand. The Bat was still staring him down, and Percy just growled,

"Get the fuck out of my face," Percy growled,

"Not before you explain why there's a demigod running loose in my city," the man growled back.

Percy's blood froze. His eyes widening, as a crack of thunder cracked loudly overhead. Percy took an abrupt step back, unconsciously channeling his power as he prepared for a fight, and his thoughts raced.

How the hell had the Bat found out about that, the number of people who knew what he was, and where he was could be counted on one hand. And Wonder Woman could not be counted on that list.

Percy also mentally berated himself, he knew the Bat's reputation as 'World's Greatest Detective', he knew that the man wouldn't miss the way that sentence would have affected Percy. There was no point in trying to deny the accusation, the only option left was damage control.

"Who the hell told you that?" he snarled,

"I have my sources," the man shot back, and that only served to put Percy more on edge, "Now answer me, what are you doing in Gotham,"

"I already told you," Percy spat, "My job. What? You think I came here to start shit?" Percy scoffed, "Don't flatter yourself, you're not that important. I'm just trying to live my life. What, that a crime these days?"

"It is if you're a natural danger to those around you," The Bat riposted,

Percy made an indignant noise, "Please, the only person here who's a danger to this city is you. How many lunatics come to Gotham just for the opportunity to take a shot at _you_? Besides, let's not act like you haven't done your research, if you know what I am, then that means you've done some digging, I'm fucking clean. Spotless goddamn record Bat, ask the boy scout if you're so uncertain."

He was getting mad. Who was this bastard to come at him, and start throwing around accusations, and posture? Percy had worked his ass off to get where he was, had sacrificed everything for a chance at normality.

He briefly contemplated wiping the bastard's memory, using the mist to alter his understanding of things. But he didn't want to risk it. Even if Percy was successful in wiping his memory of what he knew of Percy, it didn't change the fact that he had found out from _someone_, what Percy was. Without knowing the original source of the information, he couldn't take care of the entirety of the problem, and if that someone found out what Percy had done to the Bat, and reversed it, he would find himself in a lot more trouble.

Illegal vigilante or not, it didn't change the fact that capes had power. They had influence. The Bat's relationship with the commissioner was proof enough of that. But that also didn't mean Percy was going to let himself get kowtowed or bullied by some punk in a costume.

Batman glared, his default setting apparently, "I'll be watching you closely. If you slip up, I will be there to take you down hard,"

That was where Percy drew the line. This guy thought he could throw down with him? Percy was not an overly arrogant man, but he knew his strengths, he knew where he ranked in the pecking order. And some guy in fancy armor, with some special gadgets was still not on his level.

"You can try," Percy spat, not backing down from the glare. They stayed like that for some time, just glaring at one another, and neither willing to back down or give an inch.

Finally, the bat changed topics, "Where are you on the St. Cloud investigation?" he demanded,

Percy stared at the man in utter incredulity, unable to comprehend the arrogance of someone to simply assume, that Percy would bring him in on the investigation, "Blow it out your ass, how about that?" Percy said,

If the man was annoyed by the rude and rather petulant comment, he didn't show it.

"You're not going to get anywhere on that encryption without help," The man added, and Percy shouldn't have been surprised that he already knew about that. Percy didn't put it past the Bat to have some kind of virus or whatever the hell in the GCPD database, that kept him appraised of all new evidence and discoveries.

"Guess we'll find out, won't we?" Percy shot back Deciding that he was done with the conversation he pushed past the man, and back into the waiting gallery. A pair of uniformed patrolies were walking into the hall as Percy left, as they made to wrangle up the two unconscious members of the gang still in the hall.

While Percy and Batman had been away, the hall had been taken over by the GCPD, crime techs, SWAT teams, detectives, and regular patrol officers were mingling about, taking care of whatever individual tasks had been assigned to them.

Percy strode hotly through the mess, of cops, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder,

Percy spun, ready to actually deck the Bat if it was him again, but his tense posture stooped, when he saw that it was actually his boss,

Percy immediately straightened, years of military training taking over in the presence of a superior.

"Sir," Percy said,

Gordon quirked a brow at him, his pipe tucked into the corner of his mouth, "I take it you finally met him?" The Commissioner asked, in leu of a proper greeting,

"Permission to speak freely sir?" Percy asked, feeling exhausted all of a sudden,

Gordon rolled his eyes, "You ain't in the teams anymore son, speak your mind,"

"How the hell do you put up with that asshole?" Percy asked,

Gordon chuckled, taking his pipe out of his mouth to stamp the tobacco together more firmly, "Been asking myself the same question for years, I take it he wanted in on the St. Cloud investigation?"

Percy nodded,

"What'd you tell him?" Gordon asked,

"That he could take his request and blow it out his ass, sir,"

There was a pause, where Gordon just stared at Percy for a minute, and then the man laughed. A deep, rough, and full-bellied laugh. Loud and large enough to actually draw attention from some of the other cops in the vicinity.

It took a few moments, but Gordon was finally able to compose himself.

"Oh, good lord," He said, pulling his glasses away from his face to wipe a tear from his eye, "Oh son, thank you, I needed that."

"Erm," Percy was uncertain how to respond, "You're welcome, sir?"

Gordon pulled himself a bit more together, "Ten years I've been working with that man, and not once have I met someone besides Bullock with the balls to say that to his face."

Percy rubbed sheepishly behind one ear, "Gonna be honest sir, I was expecting you to be a bit more…I don't know,"

"Pissed?" Gordon supplied, reaching into his coat pocket and procuring a new handful of tobacco, with practiced ease, he scooped up a pinch of the plant, and deposited into his pipe. With the flick of his wrist, he lit a match Percy hadn't even seen him draw, and lit the new round.

"Son, I have been working with that man for a long time. And I won't lie, he's done good things for this city, has stopped a lot of bad shit that our department would not be equipped or ready to handle. That being said, the man is an asshole, and more than a bit of a bully, don't think I'm not aware that he's hacked into our database. Stolen evidence from lockup, and who knows what else. I might support the son of a bitch, but it's out of professional courtesy to see Gotham cleaned up as much as possible."

Percy nodded, feeling a bit stunned. He'd heard rumors of the relationship between the Gotham police commissioner and the Bat, but Percy had always assumed things in Gotham worked like how they had in Metropolis. He was more than relieved to see that Gordon had a real head on his shoulders.

"Can I assume," Gordon said, grabbing Percy's attention, "That your case is what brought you into this mess tonight?"

Percy nodded, remembering the newfound information he'd come into,

"Yes sir, one of my contacts put me onto a lead here at the auction tonight. We've had several big cracks today but uh…" Percy took a quick glance around the room, and Gordon seemed to get the idea.

The man nodded, looking towards the other side of the room, where Montoya was giving a statement to some members of the IAB,

"Montoya," He called out, grabbing the woman's attention, he gestured her over, and the woman was relieved from the Internal Affairs officers, before lightly jogging over,

"What's up Jim?" she asked, and Percy arched a brow at the casual address of the police commissioner. Gordon gestured with his head for the two to follow him, before he turned on his heel. Taking the cue, Percy and Montoya followed Gordon out of the room.

They took a turn out a seemingly random door, as Gordon led the two detectives into an innocuous room away from the gathering of cops. It was one of the many empty office rooms in the museum. Gordon perched himself against a desk at the far end of the room, as Montoya closed the door behind her.

Percy took the silent cue to begin, "Alright," Percy began, "First things first, we've identified the shooter," Percy reached into his pocket, and withdrew his phone, pulling out a picture of their bad guy, he passed the device over to Gordon, "Name's Alberto Romanji, he's a known gun-for-hire. Connected to at least five shoots all over the country."

"Gets worse though," Montoya chimed in, "Romanji's got connections to the Falcone's,"

Gordon swore under his breathe, handing the phone back to Percy, "Please tell me you have nothing linking the two to this mess,"

Percy nodded his head, and Montoya shot him a look, he'd forgotten that he hadn't had a chance to brief her on what he'd found.

"It's loose sir, but I might have a connection, just a matter of how much you want to yank on the thread," Percy said, giving the man an out if he wanted it. It wasn't that Percy didn't want Christian Falcone to face justice if he did in fact order a hit on Silver, but Percy understood the difficulty of prosecuting a mafia family. Even if they found solid proof that connected Falcone to the buy, nothing short of the man confessing to the crime audibly, would get a conviction. Mafia families were powerful, especially so for the son of a boss. Percy had experienced it first hand in New York. He'd grown up in a rough part of town, one that was owned by the Irish. The first thing they did as a family, was buy off the district judges, Percy couldn't remember a single member of the mob being convicted in his time in the Big Apple.

Gordon looked conflicted for a moment, before he sighed loudly, and took a large pull from his pipe, gesturing for Percy to go on.

"You were right earlier; I came here on a lead from an old friend. Apparently, Selina Kyle is a friend of the St. Cloud's," Gordon groaned, and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, Percy paused but the man just waved Percy to continue.

"Well, before the attack here, she told me that Christian Falcone had been persistently threatening the St. Cloud's. Selina didn't know what he was threatening them with, or why, but she knew that whatever was going on was rattling Falcone. I have a feeling that it has something to do with this."

Percy scrolled on his phone, pulling up the photo of the bracelet.

"We found that bracelet in the alley where Silver was shot. According to forensics, that jewel isn't an ordinary jewel, but some kind of crypto-lock or something. I get the impression that whatever is hiding behind that encryption, is why Falcone was threatening the St. Clouds,"

Gordon nodded, taking a long look at the photo, "Any luck in cracking the encryption?"

Percy shook his head, "No sir, Dr. Parker says that we don't have the tech available to crack whatever is on it. He says there are only a handful of people in the entire country capable of cracking it, and most are already working for the Feds,"

Gordon snorted, "Figures," he grumbled,

Percy paused, considering for a moment whether he wanted to let his superior know what the vigilante had said. On the one hand, if they were serious about going after Falcone, then it was likely that only the Bat would have the necessary tech capable of breaking through the encryption. On the other hand, Percy's pride refused to bring in a cape into their investigation. It wasn't so much that Percy had too big of an ego to ask for help, between his time in his world, and his time in the teams, he had long learned that there was no harm in asking for help. Rather, Percy did not like having to rely on capes, to do his job. It set a bad precedent, made it harder for him to do his job, and gave more power to capes, who already, in Percy's opinion, had enough power.

"How serious are you about going after Falcone?" Percy asked, and Gordon looked up at him, his eyes narrowing slightly,

"If you got something that might be able to put the bastard away, or something we can use later in a grand indictment, you'd best share it son," Gordon said sternly, and Percy sighed,

"The Bat," Percy said simply, "It shouldn't be a surprise that he knows about the bracelet. When he cornered me, it was talk about it, all but told me we'd need to hand it over in order for it to be broken in." Percy said,

"It's a good call," Montoya said quickly, and Percy flinched slightly, he had known she would be on board with the plan, but it still stung, "If there's anyone who can break through into whatever's behind that, it's him,

Gordon let out a slow breath, and arched a brow, "Sounds like you don't want to do that though," he said to Percy,

Percy eyed his partner, she didn't look too pleased by his hesitance to answer, but Percy tore his eyes away from her. "I…I don't know sir. I have problems, ethical problems, with turning over evidence to a vigilante. I also don't like the idea of him high-jacking our investigation,"

Montoya rolled her eyes, "Metro," she said disparagingly, "If this is about the Bat stealing your glory-"

"It has nothing to do with glory!" Percy shot back hotly, "But it has everything to do with the kind of message it sends to people, when we have to rely on capes to do our jobs for us!"

"Do our-are you kidding me? He's making our job easier! What are you talking about?"

"All right enough!" Gordon cut across, "We have a hitman on the run, and a dead fourteen-year-old girl, I won't have my two detectives wasting time arguing like children." The commissioner said, sounding more like a scolding father than a commanding officer, "Jackson," he barked, "I'm giving you until you collar Romanji. If you can't either figure out a way into that bracelet on your own, or find me something equally concrete on Falcone, we're turning it over to Batman for separate analysis. Understood?"

Percy ground his teeth together, but nodded,

Gordon nodded, "I'll get to work on getting a warrant out for Romanji, if we have any luck, we'll have him by breakfast tomorrow morning. Have a good night detectives,"

With that, the commissioner of the GCPD strode out of the room. Nothing was said between the two detectives for a few tense moments. The air heavy with tension. It was their first major disagreement as a team, and neither was really sure how to deal with it. Montoya pushed herself off the wall she'd been leaning against, and moved to leave the door, brushing by him as she did so.

"I'm-I'm glad to see you made it out in one piece tonight," she said,

Percy nodded, squeezing her arm gently, "Me too Monty, I'll see you in the morning," she nodded and with that, she strode out of the room. Percy was relieved, that simply because they disagreed on the Bat, and on capes, it didn't seem like it would be completely deconstruct of their partnership.

But what the hell did he do now?

Percy sighed, clenching his phone tight in his hand, and gently banged his head against the rear wall.

BREAK

Percy had been right in his earlier assessment. Things in Gotham were done very differently. When 'Super Criminals'-criminals who usually possessed superior abilities or technologies so regular law enforcement had difficulties-were involved, it was almost always considered a good shoot. He only had to speak to the IAB agents for five minutes before he was walking out of the station. With standing orders not to leave the city for the next week as the investigation was concluded.

Percy wasn't worried, so long as he wasn't relieved of duty, he was happy.

He was lost in thoughts of what he should do about the bracelet. So much so, that he didn't notice when a dainty hand pulled on the cuff of his shirt.

Startled, he turned to look at the offender, and almost sighed when he recognized the redheaded woman from before. The one who was either a demigod, or a clear-sighted mortal.

"Hey there," He said, his voice coming out weary as he ran a tired hand through his hair, "Sorry, was kind of out of it,"

She giggled, her red locks bouncing with her, "I could tell, you're kind of spacey." Percy didn't know how to respond to that, and she clearly didn't know how to proceed. Deciding to take the lead, Percy jerked his head,

"C'mon, I know a place where we won't be overheard." She nodded, and followed his lead. He led her away from the groups of onlookers, using the mist to make the pair of them look as nondescript as possible,

"How do you do that?" The woman asked,

"Do what?" Percy asked, before adding, "Also, what's your name again? Sorry, I feel like I know you but I can't place you,"

She waved off his concern, "Don't worry about it, we only met once and you were a little preoccupied with the whole, you know, invading army of monsters. I'm Rachel Elizabeth Dare. Pleased to meet you again, Percy Jackson,"

Percy stopped, turning to look at the woman wide eyed. He knew that name, he remembered why she had looked so familiar, he swore under breath, "By the stone, you're the damned Oracle," He breathed out.

"Guilty," She admitted, with a tilt of her head, "But you never answered my question. I've never seen someone manipulate the mist like you can, how do you do that?"

Percy, his head still spinning as he realized he was with one of the most valuable persons in their world, found it difficult to answer,

"Oh, uh, learned it from some daughters of Hekate. They specialize in mist magic, and I had a…sabbatical after the first war. Seemed smart to know how to protect and hide myself from…curious mortals." He turned, leading her into an unassuming alleyway,

"Oh, that makes sense I guess. Wait, what were you doing on sabbatical? I thought you guys, like, never took a break?"

"Didn't really have a choice in the matter," Percy murmured, taking a quick scan to ensure the alley was abandoned, before grabbing Rachel from around the elbow, "Hold still, this is going to feel weird," Then, with a burst of will, the pair disappeared, reappearing in his apartment, on the other end of town.

"Woah," Rachel said, stumbling slightly, so Percy had to reach out and steady her. "That was…different,"

"Vapor travel," Percy supplied, "You get used to it after a while,"

"Don't think I want to," Rachel grumbled, as she turned to survey their new accommodations.

Spartan. That was the best way to describe the apartment. Plain walls, no decorations, and minimal furniture. It was a cold, and depressingly empty space,

"Don't believe much in homemaking, do you, big guy?" She joked, as she sunk into a nearby chair at the small dinner table by the kitchen.

"Got everything I need," Percy said simply, as he rummaged through a cabinet, "I need a drink, anything I can make for you?" he asked,

"Something strong please, I want to forget tonight," Percy chuckled, and pulled a pair of glasses, and a bottle of rum from a cabinet. He poured each glass about two fingers worth, before handing a glass to Rachel.

"Would have thought, after spending so much time around Greeks, you would be accustomed to a little barbarity,"

She gave him a dry look,

"Cute,"

Percy smirked over the rim of his glass, before adopting a more serious expression, "So, what can I do for you Rachel, you made it sound important,"

Rachel took a pull from her glass, her face pinching slightly at the strong liquor. Shaking her head, she managed to respond, "Compared to what happened in there, I guess it's not that important." She said shyly,

Percy took a sip from his own glass, reveling in the slight burn of the rum as it washed down his throat, "If it has _you_ of all people interested, it has my attention,"

Rachel shifted in her seat, her cheeks darkening slightly, whether from the comment or the rum, Percy didn't know.

"I guess, I don't really know the reason I wanted to talk to you. Mostly just cause you're-you're kind of a mystery, you know that?" When he didn't respond, she continued, "I mean, you almost single handily hold back…_her_, army, and then you just disappear off the face of the earth. I guess, what I'm trying to say is I'm just curious as to what happened. Both for me, but also, well, Helen's a good friend. And she's never really been the same since you disappeared."

Percy visibly winced at the mention of his sister. Their first meeting had not gone well. What with him returning from his year long quest, or banishment depending on the person you asked, only to find that she had been appointed praetor in Jason's absence over him.

Percy was not an egotistical man by nature, but he was proud. He had fought hard, to rise through the ranks, had fought tooth and nail. Battled through the prejudice, the sabotage, and the isolation, to prove that a son of Neptune was not the omen of ill-will that his kinsmen thought.

He had not expected praetorship after the first war. He knew his place in the rankings, and his father above, Percy knew Jason and...and Reyna deserved the positions. But to find out, that his half-sister, who was not even of Roman blood, had ascended in Jason's place, above him.

Anger could not do justice, to the true scope of his feelings.

It had been a stab in the back for everything he had worked so hard for. Fought so hard for.

An outsider, a daughter of his father's Greek half. He had been incensed.

Helen, bless her heart, had understood his feelings. Had understood his anger. She was a little pixie that one. And before long, she had managed to worm her way into his life and heart. All in a matter of days. He cared for his sister, truly he did. She was the only living, semi-mortal family he had left, but he didn't know her. Not really, which was why he hadn't felt too bad for when he'd done what he had.

Still…

"How's she doing?" he asked, his voice soft as he finished off his glass, and poured himself another,

"Well," Rachel said, her voice equally soft, with a happy lilt to it, "She and Annabeth are expecting their first. They're using a donor," she supplied, at seeing Percy's confused look, "Annabeth nearly had a heart attack when Helen said she wanted to name him Percy,"

He choked on his drink, "W-what?" he asked, befuddled. They were family, and he cared for the woman, but to want to name her child after him? That was…

"I'm screwing with you," Rachel said, laughing at the expression on his face, and only laughing harder when it morphed into a scowl.

"But I wasn't earlier," Rachel continued, getting more subdued after she'd calmed down. "She was devastated after you disappeared, spent weeks trying to find you, before Annabeth finally talked her down."

"Annabeth, she's the blonde one, right? The one that hates me?" Percy asked, no longer scowling as he swirled his drink in his glass,

"She doesn't-"

Percy cut her off with a look, and Rachel deflated slightly,

"Ok," She admitted, "She definitely hates you,"

Percy snorted, and took another sip,

"But yeah, she managed to convince Helen that if you didn't want to be found, you wouldn't be. Eventually, everyone just gave up, assumed you were dead or something,"

Percy refilled her glass as she tapped a finger against her chin in thought, "Though, now that I think about it, Jason wasn't nearly as broken up about things as I'd expected him to be, I mean you two were pretty close, right?"

Percy averted his eyes, which was answer enough, "Holy shit," Rachel breathed out, "He knew, didn't he? He knew and didn't say anything!"

"Because I asked him not to!" Percy jumped in, quick to defend the honor of the first real friend he'd ever had. He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, he knew it was asking too much to hope that this would have stayed buried forever, but there were worse things he supposed,

"Then what happened?" Rachel demanded,

"Ok," He said after a minute, "Ok, you want to know what happened?" Rachel nodded enthusiastically,

Percy let out a slow breath, as he thought on the events that had haunted his dreams for years, "I'm sure you remember the final battle, remember-remember how bad it got?"

Rachel nodded,

"Well after…after what happened, happened. I wasn't-I was in a really bad place, ok? An entire cohort…just…and it was all my-"

He gripped the counter top, as he tried to maintain his breathing, flashes of the battle, the bodies, the screaming, flashing through his memory. He had been so successful in ignoring the event, in leaving the past buried, that the wounds felt as fresh as they ever had.

"It was bad, let's just say that," He finally managed to say, after he was able to compose himself a little, "When the dust settled, and the battle was over, I was summoned to Olympus with the seven the, um, the hunter, what the hell was her name? Shit, I should remember her, she was Jason's damn sister"

"Thalia," Rachel supplied helpfully,

"Right," Percy said, with a snap of his fingers, "Thalia and-and the other…Reyna was there too. Anyways, the god's the offered us godhood, for what we did during the war. We all refused, none of us wanted to be gods, so Jupiter offered us something else, a boon. I can't remember what the other's got, but when it came to me…I wanted to make my request in private. So, Lord Jupiter ordered the others out of the room."

Percy's hand clenched tight around his glass, memories of the day swimming in his vision, "What was Helen's life at camp like?" He asked, seemingly out of the blue, which startled Rachel, but she answered regardless,

"As good as anybody's I guess," she said slowly, "She was the camp's leader for years. Everything went through her. Not quite the systemic hierarchy of you guys, but she was in charge, well liked, respected."

Percy nodded slowly as she talked, having expected the answers, "Yeah, that's what I figured," Percy downed the rest of his rum, contemplated pouring more, but pushed it away, "It was the opposite for me. Children of Neptune, they're not well liked in Roman society, we're seen as bad omens. Our power is tied to our emotion, and when we get emotional…the earth tends to shake."

He took a shaky breath, "I spent my entire childhood, trying to prove myself different. Trying to prove I was someone who could be relied on, could be trusted. Then…what happened, happened. I was done, I was tired, and I just couldn't be there anymore."

What he left out was the feeling of utter betrayal he'd felt from his countrymen, when his half-sister had been raised. He hadn't wanted the position. Had made it clear in the Senate, that the seat should remain vacant, in honor of Jason, until he was found.

Like with all things, he'd been ignored.

He might have been able to deal with it. Might have been able to pass over yet another spit in the face. If only it hadn't been for her. And he didn't blame Helen. She hadn't asked for it, hadn't wanted the responsibility, and had given up the position the second she was able to. No, Percy's problem lay with the ones he'd given everything to protect. The one's who'd been so ungrateful, so hateful, and so prejudiced.

In the end, he'd simply gotten too tired to be a soldier of Rome any longer.

"…So I took the cowards way out. When it came to my request, I requested an out. I wanted out of the life. To be left alone, to be free to live my life. So they took my scent from me." He continued,

"Oh my god…" Rachel breathed, "They can do that?"

Percy shook his head, "Not normally, breaks a lot of rules, but…in those circumstances, an exception was made. They removed my scent, and I left. I wrote Jason, as far as I know, he's the only one aware of what I did. Where I went. I wrote him a letter of resignation, telling him my plans, what I had done. I couldn't do it in person, I was too much of a coward to face him, to see his shame, and disappointment. But I let him know my plans, where I would be, and that I would be in contact with him eventually. After that…" Percy shrugged,

"I travelled for a bit, wanted to see some more of the planet I'd fought so hard to protect, but…I got restless. Battle is in my blood, it's why I exist, I was wandering downtown Detroit when I got stopped by a recruiter, next thing I know, I'm on a bus to Coronado. I was in the teams for a few years, had an op go south and got honorably discharged, and then used my government grant to go to school. Got my degree in criminal justice, became a cop, moved to Metropolis, became a detective, and moved here a few days ago."

It felt, weird, talking about it like he had. It wasn't exactly a secret, more, his past was just that, his past. Percy wanted to be his own person, not tied down by the baggage of the world he'd left behind. He still kept in occasional contact with his friends from before, they'd been surprisingly understanding, but they'd grown apart. And talking about it all, with a woman he hardly knew, it was easier than he'd expected. Percy had always found it easier to speak with someone he didn't know, he felt less like he was being judged for it, because they had no baseline for who he was.

And moreover, it felt strangely cathartic to speak to Rachel about his past. Like he was finally putting to bed some of the demons in his closet. As though saying the words was the final nail in the coffin of moving past his personal history. At least, he hoped it was.

"Wow," Rachel finally said, "That's…that's a lot to process."

Percy nodded, he understood,

"So now, what, you're just a cop?"

"I'm just a cop," Percy confirmed, "Working cases, busting bad guys, and getting shot at. Life hasn't changed that much for me if I'm honest, just the monsters I hunt these days, have less pointy teeth," He emphasized his point by tapping at his teeth in an exaggerated manner, Rachel laughed, then grew subdued again,

"You should really call your sister. She'd want to know you're still alive,"

Percy wasn't so sure, "I don't want to butt into her life, Rachel. She's come a long way since I entered her life, and I wasn't even in it for all that long."

"You really don't know her that well, do you?" Rachel chided,

"Pretty sure that's I what I said,"

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Don't be an ass, because I _do_ know her well. Helen, she didn't have a great childhood, even by half-blood standards. Finding out she had a brother? It meant the world to her. She was devastated by your disappearance. She deserves to know,"

"You say that like you're not going to immediately tell her regardless of what I do,"

She smirked, "Glad to see that detective rank isn't just being handed out, you're right, I am. _But_ that doesn't mean that I'm wrong," She stood up, gathering her things, "Thanks for the drink Percy, and-and thanks for telling me, I know you didn't need to, but I appreciate it."

"Not sure why I did it myself," Percy admitted, "But, it feels…good to actually talk about it for once. You're welcome Rachel, and for the record, I'll think about talking to Helena."

"Good boy," Rachel said with a smile, and made to leave the apartment, only to stop and turn around, a confused look on her face,

"Um Percy?"

"Yeah?"

"How do I get to the third street from here?"

"Oh, right, shit hang on,"

BREAK

Dinah pushed the door open to Ted's gym. She needed to decompress after the mess at the museum. It was a habit she'd gotten into years ago. When an operation went pear-shaped, she needed to have some way to vent her frustrations.

And she had a lot to vent at the moment.

The fighting had gone from bad to worse. She should have listened to her instincts when they told her to evacuate Percy and Selina from the vault. They'd been caught right in the middle of the fighting. Though she had been impressed with the way that Percy had been able to handle himself. Knowing what he was, it shouldn't have been a surprise, but still, seeing the way he took charge of the situation immediately was impressive. He had been calm, resolved, and reacted without hesitation.

That being said, it had been sheer dumb luck that no one had gotten hurt. She didn't know what Batman had been thinking. It was impossible, even for him, to think through all of the possible scenarios a battle could go, and plan accordingly. What was it he had said to the kids following Santa Prisca? No strategy survives first contact with the enemy? Bastard should have listened to his own advice. Not only had civilians gotten caught in the crossfire, but one of them had even gotten taken hostage!

She still couldn't remember clearly what had happened. She remembered Robin making some kind of a move on the one holding him, and she and Batman had knocked out the two Flush members, but it was hazy. Like she had been drinking and had been fading in and out of consciousness.

She needed to punch something, and she was thankful that Ted had been willing to keep the gym open after hours.

The lights were still on, and she was mildly surprised to hear the sound of a bag already being worked. She supposed it was Ted putting in some after-hours work. Can take the fighter out of the ring, but you can't take the fight out of the fighter.

However, as she rounded the corner, she was even more surprised to see that it wasn't Ted punching the heavy bag, but was Percy. His back was to her, and he was punching the bag with the ferocity of a man with as much pent up frustration and anger as she herself was feeling. She sat back for a bit, simply content to watch the man work. He had a fluidity to his strokes, a calm assurance that was only present in the most experienced of fighters. Each blow, carefully directed, and containing power, and precision.

His back, thinly covered by a compression tee, flexed as punched. Taut and firm muscles tensing and relaxing, as they unleashed powerful blow after blow.

Her face flushed slightly, when she realized that she had been staring, and decided it was time to make her presence known.

She coughed, and had to hold back a chuckle as the man nearly jumped a foot in the air. He must have been pretty deep in his own headspace; she hadn't exactly been quiet in her approach. He turned, those bright green eyes shining, and his face covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

"Sorry," she said, not quite able to stifle her chuckles, "Didn't mean to startle you,"

Percy relaxed, and Dinah was thankful that she had remembered to put her wig on before heading out of the house. It seemed silly, wearing her wig out when she knew she was likely going to be alone in the gym, but she'd had enough experiences out of costume, to necessitate the minor inconvenience of the itchy wig.

"Sorry, didn't notice you come in," he said, his cheeks darkening slightly as he awkwardly scratched behind his ear. "Was kind of," he gestured vaguely in the air, "Out of it," he finished lamely.

"I can tell," Dinah laughed, though not rudely, "Looks like you got a lot on your mind,"

"Understatement," Percy muttered,

Dinah, who had decided she likely wasn't going to get much of a workout in, threw her bag on the ground, and perched herself on top of it. "Helps if you talk about it, at least, in my experience," she said kindly, idly flicking a strand of her wig out of her eyes,

Percy snorted, before turning and reloading in front of the bag, hopping lightly on the balls of his feet as he jabbed, "Unless you're a licensed shrink, I'm pretty sure you don't want to get within thirty miles of the mess that's in my head right now."

"Good thing I am," She responded cheekily,

She wasn't sure why she was pressing the matter. In all honesty, she shouldn't have even been talking to Percy. Batman, after the mess at the museum, had told her to keep close tabs on the man, usually that meant tailing from a distance, not letting him know he was being investigated. But when opportunity knocks and all that right?

Percy stopped his punching, turning a bewildered look in her direction,

"Seriously?" he asked,

"Seriously," she said with a laugh,

Percy smirked at her, "Well now I definitely don't want to say anything," he responded with a laugh of his own,

"Don't be an asshole," she laughed right back, "Tell you what, because I'm such a caring person, first session is free, no charge, so what do you say? Let me shrink your head a bit?"

He actually paused, and looked like he was genuinely contemplating the question, which she took as a good sign.

He sighed, and rested his head against the bag, "Wouldn't be the first dumb decision I made tonight," He murmured, though she was pretty sure the comment wasn't made for her,

"This have to do with the attack at the museum tonight?" she prompted gently,

He scoffed, "Heard about that huh?"

She shrugged, "Word travels fast, were you there?"

Percy nodded, and she smiled,

"Glad to see you're ok," which was the truth. She knew he was more than capable of taking care of himself, but she never liked the idea of non-capes getting caught in the crossfire of their fights.

"Thanks, I appreciate that," He said with a gentle smile of his own,

"So, what's going on?" Dinah asked again, shifting slightly in her makeshift chair,

Percy sighed, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

"It doesn't really have to do with the attack tonight. Not the first time I've been shot at, won't be the last either. So that's not the problem. The problem is, I-I ran into someone from my childhood tonight. Dredged up a lot of memories I thought that I'd buried.

"Bad memories?" She probed,

Percy shrugged, and made an iffy gesture with his hand, "Yes and no, more like…conflicting. She's-she's a friend of my sister. My half-sister."

"I didn't know you had a sister," Total lie, one she felt uncomfortably guilty with,

Percy snorted, "For nearly eighteen years, neither did I. Then she just popped into my life. Only knew he her for a few months. But…some stuff happened, some bad stuff. And I kind of…just disappeared. Haven't talked to her since. According to Rachel," Dinah assumed that was the person he'd run into tonight, "She took my disappearance, poorly. I guess she didn't have a great childhood either. And according to Rachel, she was beyond excited to have another relative in her life, Rachel told me to get back in touch with her, but…I don't know."

"Why is that?" Dinah prompted,

Percy shifted uncomfortably, "I-I don't know. I guess it's just…I left that part of my life behind. Finally managed to start paving my own way you know? It feels like I'm finally in charge of my own destiny, and then this happens, and suddenly I feel like it's all about to come crashing back down."

Dinah nodded, "You're worried about losing the autonomy you've finally found for yourself. That by pulling on that thread, you're welcoming back all the things you'd been trying to get away from. You're on your own, a grown man with his own life, and career, and new relationships, and here comes someone you barely know, barging back into your life, telling you to reopen a chapter of your history you're trying to leave behind. It's more than understandable to feel uneasy." Dinah counseled,

"I guess the question is then," she shifted, placing one fist under her chin, "Is whether you want a relationship with this woman you barely know. Do you want to potentially reopen your heart to a part of your life you've tried leaving behind, and dredging up past memories in favor of a new relationship, or do you want to take the leap of faith, and trust that now that you're older, wiser, and more experienced, you can handle whatever gets thrown your way."

Percy groaned, sliding down the bag, and sitting on the floor, pulling his knees up to his chin,

"Emotions are bullshit," he sighed into his kneecaps,

Dinah chuckled, "I don't disagree, but you didn't answer my question."

Percy looked up at her, his sea-green eyes seemed to shine in the dim light of the room, "I-I don't really know. I've never really had a family before. Mom died when I was young, and I was thrown into the system before my-my caretaker found me. I didn't really have anyone I could rely on for the longest time, only ever had two good friends until I joined the teams. I don't know what I'd do with a family." He looked back up at her, his eyes glistening with uncertainty,

"What would you do?"

Dinah shifted, as she pondered the question, "I'd…I think I'd reach out honestly." She said, meeting his gaze, "We only have one life to live, and if I found I had family, that wanted to be a part of my life, that wanted to know me, care for me, and love me, I think I'd just have trust that they really feel that way."

"Even if that meant throwing yourself back into a world you'd been so desperately trying to avoid?"

Dinah knew he was referring to the gods. Knew that he was worried about being caught back up in whatever life he'd had before. Diana hadn't been super forthcoming with the details, but she had an inkling that whatever his life had been like, it hadn't been pretty. Hadn't been safe, or nurturing. That he desperately wanted to avoid going back to that.

"I do," she said softly, "I'd give anything to have my mom back, to have any real family again. It's comforting you know? Having someone who loves you unconditionally, who simply wants to be part of your life, hear the good, bad, and the ugly. No one wants to have to try and face the world alone, and when you have people like that, it makes even the impossible seem a bit more manageable."

Percy didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at the floor, "So you think I should run with this," It wasn't really a question,

Dinah nodded, "I do," she said gently, "You're allowed to let people in Percy. Especially if they want to be in your life. In spite of the risks, I think the benefits outweigh everything else."

And she meant it. She wasn't sure why she was helping him like she was, or why he was opening up to a total stranger, but she wasn't going to question it. Percy Jackson was a mystery, the deeper she dug, the more she unraveled, the more she wanted to know.

Percy groaned, and rubbed tiredly at his eyes, but when he looked back at her, he was smiling, "Thanks," he said softly, "I know we don't really know each other that well, but I really appreciate the help,"

She smiled back, "Hey, you were willing to help out Artemis, consider this my repayment." Then she smirked at him, "Even if you did interrupt my workout,"

Percy laughed, "Sorry about that," he said,

"Well," she drawled, standing up and stretching her arms over her head, not missing the way Percy's eyes seemed to linger for a moment on her taught abdominals, "I know a way you can make it up to me,"

"Oh?" Percy responded, meeting her eyes,

"Yeah," she grinned, "If you're tired of doing it by yourself, you could always go a few rounds with me," She turned, grabbing her bag to head into the locker room, before calling over her shoulder, her grin widening at his expression, "For the record, I _was_ talking about sparring,"

Percy shook off his expression,

"That'd be nice too,"

**AN: AND WE'RE BACK! Alright folks, thanks for being patient with me on this one, I know how much you've been looking forward to it. Couple of announcements, for those who haven't read The Last Argonaut, first, check it out, I love that story, but two, I'm approaching my writing differently. From now on, I'll be focusing on one story specifically, and working through an "arc" usually about 4-5 chapters I'd say, before moving onto to my next piece. Chapters, upon completion, will be released once a day until they are gone. So you have that to look forward to. Now, onto another announcement, to my fans of Son of a Sailor. It's not abandoned, but consider it on a hiatus for further notice. I was honestly never that serious about it, it was just an idea I had stuck In my head that I needed to write. I never expected the kind of following it got, so I need time to focus on putting something together for it, and I can't do that and Our Protector at the same time. Too many conflicting plots around the same characters for my tiny brain. I will come back to it at some point. Just, probably not any time soon unfortunately. **

**As for this chapter! Percy's heritage finally revealed, yes he is Roman. I think I dropped enough hints throughout the story to make it obvious, so I hope this wasn't too much of a shock to you. Things have gone very different, I've taken liberties with canon and the mist because I can to make the story I want to make. But please, tell me what you thought, let me know how you're liking the story, and I can't wait for what's to come. I think the last chapter of this arc has some of my best writing I've ever done, so get excited! As always, thanks so much for all the love and support, you guys are incredible! Stay safe, love you all, and see you tomorrow!**

**Love,**

**LilDB **


	10. Coming Together

The following morning, Percy and Montoya split ways again. The pathologist had called Montoya that morning, to let her know they were ready to do the autopsy on the second victim, the Silver's personal chauffeur. Both her and Percy, expected nothing new to come from the second cut, but one of them needed to present for it regardless. While she was doing that, Percy was running down his only other lead from Selina.

Percy rubbed behind his ear, and he stared up at the sign over the doorway. Kleinman's was a high-end jeweler and boutique on the upper-east side of town. One of the wealthier parts of the city. Surrounded on all sides by upper-class restaurants, salons, and department stores, Percy felt immensely out of place. But this was the only real lead he had on the bracelet, and the last he wanted to do, was get some cape involved in his investigation.

Which was what brought him to Kleinman's. He hadn't mentioned the sum total of the information he'd been given by Selina, to either Gordon or Montoya, he didn't care, the information would all be there in his official report of the investigation. But Percy was bound and determined, to not have to rely on the Bat to break through the case. Only problem was, with every cop in the city looking for Romanji, Percy didn't suspect, he'd have much time to break the encryption.

With a sigh of resignation, Percy pushed open the door to the upper-class establishment.

The bell above the door rang as he entered, the store was as upper-class as Percy had expected it to be. The rows of display cases, held beautiful and ornate sets of jewelry, ranging from simple rings, to necklaces, and even the odd bracelet and band.

Taking a quick look at some of the prices, and Percy nearly spat up the coffee in his stomach.

As Percy approached, an older man looked up from behind the counter. He was in his late sixties or early seventies, with graying hair that sat in small tufts on his scalp. Age lines dotted his aging face, and large nose, and he adjusted a small pair of spectacles as Percy approached the counter,

"Can I…help you sir?" the man asked, not quite able to keep the condensation from his voice.

Percy flashed his badge an identification as he glared at the man, "I'm detective Jackson with the GCPD." he said,

"Is there something I can help with, officer?" the man-judging by the ownership badge on his breast Percy assumed this was Kleinman-turned his nose down at Percy.

Suppressing a snort at the rude man, Percy nodded his head, "I'm working an investigation, and I have been led to believe that one of the parties involved might have been a client of yours."

Percy reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and bringing up the picture of the bracelet. "Do you recognize this bracelet?"

The man huffed in agitation, but accepted the phone, as Percy slid it across the countertop. He glanced down for a moment, and for just a split second, it looked to Percy as though recognition passed through his eyes. But it disappeared as quick as it had appeared, and the man adopted an apathetic expression, staring dryly at Percy,

"Apologies officer, but I've never seen this piece before. I'm afraid I cannot be of assistance," Percy narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

Percy had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He'd been through this exact scenario entirely too many times. But that meant he also knew how to handle the situation. Exaggerating a sigh, he ducked his head, and did his best to look regretful,

"Damn," he muttered, but made sure his voice was loud enough to be heard, "This was the last good lead we had on the bastard that killed that little girl." And then Percy turned his back, and made it look as though he were going to dejectedly leave the building.

"Wait!" Called out the man behind the counter,

_Hook, line, and sinker, _

Hiding a smirk, Percy turned, an eyebrow raised in confusion,

The man behind the counter shook his head, doing his best to appear sheepish, "My apologies, it has been a long morning, might I have another look at that photograph, I believe that I might have not seen it correctly," Percy made a show of considering the man. He didn't want to make it look like he'd manufactured the man's reaction. After a moment's hesitation, Percy slowly reproached the desk, and slid the phone back over to the owner. The man took it, and held the device closer to his face.

He then nodded at Percy, "Detective, might I see your badge once more?" he asked. Curious, but willing to go along with it, Percy nodded, and brought his identification back out. Percy watched as the man studied Percy's information, before jotting something down on a piece of paper beside him.

The man then disappeared behind a small curtain leading to the back of the shop. Percy frowned, unsure of what exactly was happening, but curious to see where this was potentially going. Straining his ears, he heard the man speaking, likely on the phone, though the voices were too muffled for him to make out what was being said.

He felt his body tense slightly, as he began to worry about whether or not he'd just walked right into a very bad situation.

Unconsciously, he began surveying the room. Identifying chokepoints, possible points of entry, and spots that would create good cover, should things suddenly go sideways.

His worry was unfounded however, as the man returned from behind the counter, without a word to Percy, he walked toward the front of the store, and flipped the OPEN sign, to CLOSED. He then gestured softly for Percy to follow him.

Unease settling over his spine, Percy hesitantly followed. He didn't like this, but his body's natural instincts weren't telling him he was about to walk into a trap. Deciding to play it safe either way, he surreptitiously flipped the strap off the holster of his sidearm at his waist. He still had the piece in his shoulder holster, and the one in the small ankle holster around his leg, but the one at his hip would allow for greater immediate reaction.

His caution was ultimately unnecessary however, as the store proprietor simply ushered him into a small office in the back of the room. Closing the door behind him, the man took a seat in the small chair behind the desk.

"You may re-holster your weapon detective. I assure you, no harm will come to you in my store." The man said easily, but Percy didn't move. While his instincts weren't screaming at him just yet, Percy hadn't lived as long as he had, without being cautious. Cautious, and paranoid. Since the man in front of him was acting beyond strangely, Percy maintained his guard,

The man sighed, "I apologize detective, but one cannot be too careful. I was simply running your name and badge number by a trusted friend. I needed to make sure that you were not only who you claimed you were, but could be trusted. Given what that bracelet represents, I have great fear for my well-being. Now please, have a seat,"

Percy made no move to put the slip back over the handle of his weapon, but did as the man bade. Taking a seat in the comfortable seat across the desk from the store owner.

"Miss Silver is dead then?" He asked without preamble.

Percy, who was growing more confused by the second, nodded his head slowly, "Found her three nights ago, shot twice in the back and once between the eyes. We have reason to believe that she was kidnapped, and taken away from her penthouse. It is my belief that her death was linked to that bracelet."

"You have the bracelet in police custody then?" the man asked,

Percy nodded, "Only myself, my partner, the chief forensics specialist, and the commissioner are aware of the bracelet." Percy said, leaving out that Selina was the one to tell him about the store.

The man looked relieved at the information, "Good, that's-that's good," he said, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbing at his forehead, "Ah, I forgot, my name is Simon Kleinman, I am the proprietor of this establishment, and I was the one to craft the Miss Silver's bracelet."

Percy nodded, feeling slightly relieved that the trail he'd what found, might have been working out in his favor,

"Can I trust that you know what that bracelet really is then?" Kleinman asked,

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to clarify that statement," Percy said cautiously. Just because the man was looking like he might be helpful, didn't mean that Percy wasn't going to play this carefully,

"I am aware that it is not really a bracelet, but an encryption key, yes." Kleinman confirmed, and Percy let out a small relieved breath.

"Were you the one to put the encryption in place?" Percy asked immediately, hopeful that he may get lucky.

Kleinman shook his head, "Unfortunately not. And before you ask, no, I do not know the identity of the one who did. We paid through a series of wire transfers to an anonymous bank account somewhere in the Bahamas. We only ever worked with what I assume was a pseudonym; someone by the name of Gizmo. They supplied the tech, and I was the one to craft the bracelet around it."

Fighting the urge to groan, Percy pulled out a pen and pad, and began taking notes down,

"All right," Percy said slowly, "Let's back up then, and start from the beginning. I'm going to just take a shot in the dark here and assume you're close to the St, Clouds?"

Kleinman nodded, "Indeed I am. I've known Grace and Alexander for many years. They have been treasured clients, and better friends. I was there for Silver's baptism," His eyes grew slightly watery, and he dabbed at their corners with the side of his handkerchief. "I have been making custom pieces for them for some time."

"Ok, when did the couple come to you, to make the order for the bracelet?" Percy asked as he wrote,

"One month and seven days ago." Kleinman answered immediately, causing Percy to pause in his writing,

"That's…very specific," he said slowly, looking at the man carefully,

"I remember it clearly. Because I knew; the moment they told me what the bracelet was, I knew that Grace and Alexander were in trouble." He said, and Percy froze.

"You know what's on that bracelet?" He asked, his pulse picking up,

"I do not," he said softly, pulling his glasses off his face and rubbing tiredly at his eyes. And Percy frowned,

"I thought you just said that you knew what the bracelet was,"

"Just because I know what the bracelet is, doesn't mean I know what's on there," Kleinman answered back smoothly,

Percy's brow furrowed, as he grew increasingly frustrated, "Ok," he said, forcing himself to remain calm and in control, "So if you don't know what's on the bracelet, how did you know the St. Clouds were in trouble."

"Simple deduction really, they had been once more receiving…troubling…messages," Kleinman said softly,

"Does this have to do with Christian Falcone?" Percy asked,

Kleinman froze, then nodded, "I suppose if you managed to find me, then it shouldn't be surprising that you know about that."

Percy shook his head, "Actually Mr. Kleinman, I barely know anything, only that Falcone had been supposedly harassing the St. Cloud's for some time."

"It was more than simple harassment, detective." Kleinman sighed, looking even older than his already advancing years, "Christian Falcone has been after the St. Cloud's for years. Has done everything from bribing city officials for advancements on waiting lists for his own personal venues, to hiring thugs to hijack shipments of supplies for the St. Cloud galleries, all the way up to theft, extortion, and murder. You hear about the museum heist in Seoul a few years ago?"

Percy shook his head that he hadn't,

"It was the St. Cloud's first gallery in the Asian markets, a very important, and very profitable step for them. One that established them as not only top dealers in the world, but _the_ dealers. It had been the exact location that Falcone had been trying to get into for years, but he kept getting roadblocked by the South Korean government. He didn't take kindly to that, and he hired a gang of international criminals known as CYCLOPS to raid the museum. The St, Clouds lost nearly one-hundred million in prized pieces, before the gang was caught by the Justice League. For a while, that seemed like it was going to be the end of it, Falcone stopped his posturing, and things began to settle down…"

"Until they didn't," Percy added,

"Until they didn't" Kleinman nodded,

But why would Falcone just stop? If he'd invested that much capital into the plan, why not see it all the way through? Better question, why wait until so long after the fact, to start acting again. And more importantly,

What the hell was on that bracelet that was worth killing the St. Cloud's over?

Percy's brow furrowed, confused, he had questions and concerns, how just a simple jeweler seemed to know so much, but he wasn't going to pull on that thread quite yet, he had other questions.

"Why was Christian Falcone so concerned with opening art galleries?" Percy asked, "It's a pretty far cry from the other…forms of investment his family is involved in."

Kleinman nodded in understanding, "The Falcone's are looking to establish their business in overseas markets. They want to appear to have legitimate businesses, that actually run as a front for their criminal activities. Something like an art gallery, which allows for a high volume of incoming cash flow, makes it easier to not only launder incoming dirty money, but also allows them certain tax write offs that don't appear as suspicious to the federal government. Moreover, the kind of space needed for art galleries, provides the perfect place to hide weapons, armaments, drugs, you name it. They can smuggle all sorts of illegal items through their own private means, completely legally, utilizing high profile art galleries as their smoke screen."

It made sense, in theory. But that didn't explain the bracelet. What was so important that Falcone would abandon pursuing the galleries, in favor of that bracelet?

Percy sighed, and rubbed behind his ear. The more of this that became unraveled, the more confusing it became. There was just something not making sense about everything. Like why Silver was the one with the encryption. What was on the bracelet. Or, and this was really starting to bother Percy, why the ever-loving hell, the St. Clouds were unable to get in touch with him!

The entire situation could likely have been resolved at that point, if the damn parents could take thirty seconds, to answer a phone! Which was even more infuriating and confusing given that Selina had told him how much the two older aristocrats loved their daughter!

There was a pit in Percy's stomach, one that had been growing for days, but was steadily getting larger, and becoming vocal. What if there was a reason the parents couldn't get in touch with him? What if Silver, hadn't been the sole target?

Percy pushed that line of thinking to the back of his mind, he didn't want to consider the possibility for the moment, even if it seemed like it was becoming more and more likely the longer time went on.

Shaking it off, he turned his attention back to Kleinman, "Thank you for your time sir, you've been very helpful, is there anything else you can do for me?"

Kleinman looked down for a moment, his brows furrowing and his forehead crinkling as he thought. After a moment, he looked back up at Percy, "Unfortunately not, detective. That is all I can think of for the moment. I apologize that I can't be of more help."

Percy shook his head, standing up from his chair, "No sir, you've been very helpful. Thank you." Fishing a card out of his pocket, Percy handed it over to the man, "If you can think of anything else, or have cause for concern, that is my mobile number. Reach me anytime, day or night."

Kleinman stood up as well, taking the card from Percy before reaching a hand out to Percy to shake, "I…appreciate that, detective. How close are you to an arrest?"

"Close, I'll give you a call when we make an official arrest." Percy replied, in spite of how helpful the man seemed to be, Percy wasn't about to leave anything to chance. He didn't want to risk accidentally tipping off Romanji that they not only knew who he was, but knew who he worked for.

With farewells given, Percy turned on his heel, and was escorted by the older man out of the shop. He was just about to pull out his phone to call Montoya, when she beat him to the punch. Her name flashing across the screen of his phone, pulling it up, he accepted the call as he opened the door to his car, and got behind the driver's seat.

"Your ears burning Monty? I was just thinking of calling you to-"

"Jackson," Montoya's voice came across the speaker, immediately putting Percy on edge. She never called him by his actual name. Tensing, he put the car in the drive, and peeled away from the curb, flashing his lights as he did so. Whatever was going on, Percy assumed he would need to get there in a hurry.

"What's going on?" Percy asked, swearing around a parked sedan, before taking a sharp left. He was instinctually heading back to the precinct,

"Get to One-Police-Plaza," Montoya commanded, "I just got off the phone with Gordon, we have a meeting with Interpol,"

Percy's stomach clenched, and he knew what was coming before Montoya even said it,

"Alexander and Grace St. Cloud are dead."

BREAK

It was his first time in the headquarters for the entire Gotham Police Department. While the outside of the building maintained a traditionally gothic look, the inside was entirely different story. It was completely modernized, with contemporary amenities befitting the twenty-first century.

Not that he'd had the time to appreciate any of it.

He'd barely put two feet inside the building, before he was being ushered to a nearby elevator, and brought to the top floor of the building, where he was led to the office of the commissioner. Inside the office, was the commissioner himself, Montoya, and a man Percy didn't recognize. He was tall, a little over six feet, and powerfully built, with a shock of gray hair, and pale gray eyes.

Seeing Percy enter the room, he strode over, hand outstretched, "Agent King Faraday, Interpol. You must be detective Jackson," Faraday introduced himself,

Percy accepted the handshake, pumping the man's equally firm grip once, before releasing it,

"Wish it were under better circumstances agent," Percy replied evenly, "What's happened?"

Faraday nodded, looking over to Gordon for permission, a good sign to Percy. Not many federal or international agents followed or adhered to local hierarchy. At Gordon's nod, the man pulled out a file from the large overcoat he was wearing, opening the file, he pulled several pictures from the inside, and splayed them out on Gordon's desk.

They crime scene photos, taken a few days ago based on the watermark on the bottom of the photos. The photos were of a pair of individuals that Percy recognized as Alexander and Grace St. Cloud. They were motionless in the photos, lying face down in pools of their own blood, both throats slashed, as they lay in their morning wear.

"Damn," Montoya murmured at Percy's side, as she investigated the photos. Percy barely heard her; he was too focused on the slashes on the necks. The strokes were clean, precise. The work of someone who not only knew what they were doing, but had done it several times before.

His eyes scanned the rest of the photos, and the scenes within. He looked at what he thought were drag markings in one of the photos, as streaked blood was covering the side of the bed and part of the floor. Either one of them hadn't died immediately, and had tried crawling away, or they'd been moved.

He then took notice of the state the room itself was in. The photos didn't give Percy much to work with, but from what he could see, one of two things were likely. Either the assassin had gotten caught, unlikely given the skill of the kills, and the two St. Clouds had put up a fight, or the assassin had killed the art dealers, before tearing the room apart, looking for something.

Faraday spoke as he placed the photos on the desk, "A few days ago, a maid in Brussels attempted to enter the penthouse used by Alexander and Grace St. Cloud, to do a routine turn-down. She discovered the bodies at around eleven a.m. and the coroner in Belgium placed the time of death at some point earlier that morning. Guests in the hotel confirm that they heard nothing out of the ordinary, though one guest did recall hearing what sounding like drawers being slammed around."

He paused and pointed at the first picture of the bodies, "As you can see, they were killed quickly, and efficiently. One stroke, laterally over the carotid artery on each of them. We think it was a pro, we were keeping silent on this, until a couple of hours ago, when I received word that the daughter had been murdered in an alley here in Gotham. Judging by the time of the attack, I can guess that both attacks took place on the same day, and are most certainly connected. We just don't know why, or what the motive was. We were hoping you might be able to shed some light on things,"

"Anybody you like for this?" Montoya asked, picking up a photo and examining it closely,

Faraday shrugged, "Could be any number of people if I'm honest. Feels like every year there's at least a dozen new players. Although I'd put my money on a guy calling himself the Black Spider. Thug for hire, works mostly with blades, and is known for getting his targets in their beds at night. This seems like the type of job he'd do, but we won't know until we manage to get our hands on the security footage from the building across the street. The Belgians have been playing hardball,"

"Wouldn't be Spider," Percy said softly, still peering at the photos, "He got busted a few weeks ago. Something to do with the break in at WayneTech."

Faraday frowned, but nodded his head, while Montoya grunted in annoyance,

"Well," Percy said softly, as he continued to examine the photos, he'd only been half-listening to the man, "This certainly explains a few things,"

"Like?" Faraday asked, though not unkindly,

"Like why I haven't been able to get in touch with them, in spite of the fact that everyone I've interviewed, has sworn up and down that these two loved their daughter more than life itself. It also explains a problem I've been having. We know what these guys were looking for, but it's clear that they didn't."

"So, you noticed it too?" Montoya said softly,

Percy nodded, "Looks like whoever our pro is, tossed their penthouse like our boy tossed Silver's."

Faraday nodded, "We came to a similar conclusion. The pictures don't do a great job of showing you, but the entire penthouse got turned upside down. The bed was thrown from the box-spring, cubbies and drawers opened and thrown around the room. Luggage bags torn to shreds. It was obvious they were trying to find something; we just had no idea what it was,"

He tilted his head in Percy and Montoya's direction, "So you know what they were looking for?"

Montoya nodded, but looked to Percy, since it was his find, and his leads that were doing the majority of the legwork on the investigation.

Percy nodded his thanks, and brought out an image of the bracelet, "We suspect that whoever killed Silver St. Cloud was likely looking for something, he not only tossed her penthouse, but we have an eye witness that claims he searched the body of miss St. Cloud after she was shot, and became visibly agitated when he didn't find what he was looking for. We believe it was this bracelet."

Faraday took the photo and examined it closely, "What makes it so special, some kind of fancy, rare emerald?"

Montoya shook her head, and pointed at the jewel, "That's no jewel stud, it's an encryption device. Think of it like some kind of USB drive on steroids."

"Based on what you're showing us, as well as some of the interviews I've been having," Percy explained, as Faraday handed his phone back to Percy, "The person who hired these guys didn't know what the drive was. Probably assumed, like Montoya suggested, that it was a flash drive or something. We don't know what's on it unfortunately, need a supercomputer to break into it," Percy quickly said, seeing the look on Faraday's face,

The man nodded, disappointed, but looked back up after a moment. He glanced between Percy and Montoya, scrutinizing them,

"So where are you in your investigation?" Faraday asked,

"Depends on what you're looking for from us agent," Gordon chimed in, speaking for the first time since Percy's arrival.

Faraday looked at the older man, before chuckling lightly, "I'm not the feds Commissioner, I'm not looking to yank jurisdiction out from under you, I'm just looking to compare notes. Unless you're suggesting that whoever killed Silver, also killed the parents. Which, I can tell you, is an impossibility, given the time of death of both sets of victims. And since I know you're all smarter than that, then you must all realize that we have at least two killer's out there, on the loose, and at least one person bankrolling all of this,"

Percy hummed in agreement, "We're all on the same page then," he then looked to Gordon for permission. He probably didn't actually need it, but it was that thought that counted more often than not. At Gordon's nod, Percy launched into an explanation about Romanji, the bracelet, and all of the events leading up to Silver's death.

"Sounds like you have someone you like for this," Faraday observed cautiously, to which Percy once again looked to Gordon for confirmation, Gordon nodded,

"We have reason to believe that Christian Falcone is the one responsible for the hit. If someone hit the parents as well, I'm willing to put good money on the fact that he ordered them as well,"

Faraday arched a brow, and crossed his arms over his chest, "Why's that?"

Percy shrugged, then looked to Montoya, "Was going to tell you later anyways, but you remember me mentioning that lead I got from Selina?"

Montoya looked annoyed but nodded, "Well, Simon Kleinman, an old friend of the St. Clouds, was the guy who put the order on the bracelet together. Told me some interesting things about the real relationship between the St. Cloud's and the Falcone's," Percy looked over at Faraday, "Before I forget, does the name 'Gizmo' mean anything to you?"

Faraday groaned, and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Yes, I'm unfortunately very familiar with that little shit,"

"Uh, what?" Percy asked, confused by the reaction,

Faraday waved off the confusion, "Sorry, he's some kind of wunderkind with tech. Has been giving Interpol the runaround for the last few years. Got his start in cryptocurrency believe it or not, before he decided to go off market with his talents. He likes hacking into Interpol databases and replacing our files with porn."

Percy stifled a snort, "Right," he said awkwardly, and Montoya hid a laugh behind a cough in her hand, "Well, erm, anyway, looks like the St. Cloud's hired him to make the encryption for the necklace. Which, judging by your reaction, means that you probably have no way of breaking into it,"

Faraday regretfully shook his head, "Unfortunately not, we're better funded than most law enforcement agencies, but his tech is next level. I won't be able to help out with that much."

"Figures," Percy grumbled,

"Getting back on topic," Montoya said, steering the conversation back on track, "You were talking about Kleinman?" she prompted Percy, who nodded his thanks,

"Right, well, he told me that Falcone's relationship with the St. Cloud's was a little more than just some minor harassment." Percy took the next couple of minutes to catch the rest of the team up to speed with what he'd uncovered that morning,

Percy met Montoya's eyes, "You're thinking what I am, right?" Percy asked,

"Depends," Montoya said, leaning back against the wall, "If you're thinking that whatever is on that flash drive has to do with Falcone? Then yes, we are."

Percy nodded, and Gordon cut in, "Mind walking us through your thought processes detectives?" Percy shrugged and looked over to Montoya, he'd done most of the talking so far, and wanted her to take over for a bit,

She rolled her eyes, but smiled in appreciation, "Ok," she began slowly, pushing off the wall as she started to pace softly around the room, "Why would Falcone back off like he had? You invest as much time, energy, and man power into trying to force the St. Clouds out of the way, but they won't budge, so why does Falcone take a step back?"

She wasn't looking for a reply, "Because something stopped him. For one reason or another, he stops dead in his tracks, and puts an end to pursuing the St. Clouds. His hiatus extends for three years, and then this happens. Why?"

Percy spoke up for her, "Because the St. Clouds had something on him. Something that could have buried him."

"The bracelet," Faraday said, catching on, "You think the St. Clouds were blackmailing Falcone?"

Montoya shrugged, "Could be. Could have simply been a catalogue of evidence of what he'd been doing to them. Hell, for all we know, it could have been a sex tape. But I'm thinking that the St. Clouds had something on Falcone, and he wanted it buried in the worst possible way."

"Only problem for him," Percy chimed in, "Was that he didn't know what it was he was looking for. He thinks he's looking for a flash drive, which is why Romanji just threw away the bracelet, and why he was tearing apart the penthouse."

"It also explains why whoever killed Grace and Alexander, flipped their room," Montoya continued, "And why both targets were hit at once. Get both the parents and the kid, then one can't warn or find out about the other, and go into hiding."

"Not to mention," Percy continued, picking up Montoya's stream of consciousness, "That by knocking off the St. Clouds, it opens the way for Falcone to move in on their turf. Two birds, one stone."

Percy and Montoya paused, and stared at one another, before grinning, glad to be on the same wavelength.

"Don't celebrate just yet," Gordon said, drawing their attention, "That's a fine theory and all, but we have no concrete evidence linking Falcone to the hit, we still don't have Romanji in custody, and now we have a third assassin somewhere in the wind."

Percy nodded, as Montoya's phone began to chirp, apologizing, the woman turned away from the others as she answered the incoming call.

"I understand sir," Percy said looking to Gordon,

"I take it you've gotten no further with that data drive then?" Gordon prompted,

Percy shook his head, annoyance and bitter disappointment swelling in his breast, "No sir, Kleinman was the last good lead I had on anything pertaining to the drive. Unless we had the St. Clouds alive to unlock it, or to testify against Falcone, we have nothing concrete."

Gordon sighed, running a hand over his face, "I was worried about that. I was really hoping we wouldn't have to rely on _him_ for this, but it's looking like we might not have a choice in the matter."

"Him who?" Faraday prompted, but neither Gordon nor Percy had the chance to answer, as Montoya stormed back into the room,

"Sir, that was Central, Romanji just got picked up trying to sneak back into the penthouse. Uniforms are transporting him back to One-Seven now,"

"We've got this bastard, but he's small game. We want Falcone, so get after him, get me a confession, and get me a link to Falcone," Gordon demanded, to which Percy grunted a reply, and made to tear out the door,

"And Jackson!" Gordon called out, stopping Percy in the doorway, "Sorry son, but looks like we'll be outsourcing that bracelet to someone else,"

Percy frowned, as a bubble of frustration pooled in the pit of his stomach, but he buried it. There was work to be done, so instead he simply nodded at the commissioner, and gave Faraday a farewell nod as he left.

Forgoing the elevator, Percy tore down the stairs, taking them two at a time, Montoya hot on his heels. He was bound and determined to get something out of Romanji.

He might not have been able to crack the bracelet, but he could get Romanji to flip on Falcone, and then maybe they wouldn't need whatever was on that device.

One thing was certain to Percy however.

Bastard was going to go down for this, one way or another.

**AN: A bit shorter this time, but we're back on track as the investigation begins to wind down. I'm excited, next chapter, everything that I've been setting up really comes into fruition, before shit just starts popping off. Get ready, because the next couple chapters are about to be electric. Thanks again for all the support, hope you guys are enjoying the ride, Lemme know what ya'll think. Stay safe, and love you all, **

**Love, **

**LilDB **


	11. Making The Case

The room was silent, save for the occasional loud crunch, and the crinkle of plastic. Interview rooms were, like many aspects of his career, nothing like they were depicted on television. The big, open spaced room, with a simple metal table in the middle, and dull lighting, often like a dungeon. Real questioning chambers were nothing like that. Such as the one Percy was in. It was small, barely bigger than a closet. With bright white walls, and bright fluorescent lights. On one side of the room, by the door, was a simple wooden desk, with a soft back chair. Across from the desk was a hard metal chair. Where an annoyed Romanji sat, wincing slightly every time Percy bit down into his bag of chips.

Percy himself, was slouched in a chair across from Romanji, his feet perched up on the desk by his side. The second he'd entered the precinct, Romanji had been crying for his lawyer. So, naturally, as was his right, his lawyer was contacted, and Percy and Montoya refrained from questioning the man. That had been yesterday, and Percy and Montoya had been working to meticulously start breaking down the man's case, as well as doing their best to shatter any potential alibi. However, when they received the call that the state-appointed public defender was on their way, Percy had headed to the room.

He had managed to talk Montoya into letting him be the one to conduct the interview.

They had ensured that the cameras were on, and that everything was being recorded from start to finish. They didn't want Romanji getting cut loose due to a technicality.

But that didn't mean they couldn't screw with the bastard either.

That was part of the play. Unnerve the hell out of him. Make him wonder what they really had on him. Percy made every effort to look as relaxed, and unconcerned as possible. It was all part of the deception. Did they have the bastard dead to rights? Even if they didn't have the camera footage of him in the St. Cloud car hours before the murder. Even if he didn't fit the description of their suspect, and even if they hadn't had his fingerprints, which Percy was certain would be a match to both of their crime scenes, there was the gun.

The man had been dumb enough to bring a gun with him to the penthouse. Not just any gun. A nine-millimeter. A nine-millimeter that was had been rushed over to One-Police-Plaza to be run against the NIBIN database, as well as tested against the shell casings found in both crime scenes. A nine-millimeter that Percy was certain would test as a match for both crime scenes.

They had Alberto Romanji dead to rights. It wasn't a matter of if he was going to jail, it was only a matter of how long would he be there.

So yes, the plan was to unnerve him. Because they didn't want Romanji. Was he the one to shoot St. Cloud? Yes, a fourteen-year-olds life was cut tragically short because this son of a bitch was as amoral as it came. But he was just a two-bit thug. A punk with a gun and willing to use it. No, Falcone was the real prize. Falcone was the one they really wanted.

Percy was jolted from his thoughts abruptly, when the door to the room opened. A young woman, barely in her mid-twenties walked in. She was tall, maybe only a few inches short of six feet. Dressed in an all-black work suit that complimented her caramel skin, with dark black hair, and brown eyes hidden behind thick-rimmed black glasses.

Percy thought she was on the younger side for being a practicing public defender, maybe only a year or so out of school.

"I hope you haven't been harassing my client detective, would hate for your work to be over before it even began," she said snidely, her voice lightly accented, sounding to Percy like she was from one of the posher parts of Britain.

Percy didn't get the chance to respond, "Who the hell are you?" Romanji demanded, speaking up for the first time since Percy had entered the room.

The lawyer didn't bat an eye, "Sarah Rosthein, I'm your lawyer," she said, simply.

"The hell you are!" Romanji said, getting more agitated by the second, "Where the hell is Carlos?"

Rosthein arched a finely manicured brow,

"I don't know anyone by that name, I was appointed to you by the state, and Mr. Romanji," She cut across his outburst before he could interrupt, shooting a meaningful look in Percy's direction, "I would offer my first piece of council; continue exercising your right not to incriminate yourself in front of the detective,"

Romanji, who Percy could swear had been about to mouth off, shut his jaw with a click.

Percy managed to keep the smirk off his face,

_So, looks like Falcone usually kept a lawyer on retainer for him, but this time, has officially cut him loose. Judging by the look on his face, that doesn't bode well for his future wellbeing, _Percy thought to himself, as he watched the exchange.

"As for you," She said, turning a glare on Percy, "What is my client being held for? I was told he was being charged with two counts of murder, but from what the district attorney's office presented, you don't have enough concrete evidence to hold him. So, unless you have something new to add, we're done here,"

"Funny thing that," Percy said, not flinching away from the woman, "He's being held on possession of an illegal firearm. Picked it up off of him when we brought him in, serial number was shaved off."

She didn't respond, but her glare did intensify somewhat,

"Well then," Percy said, clapping his hands together, "Since we're all lawyered up and comfortable, mind if I start asking some questions?"

Rosthein ignored him for a moment, as she busied herself placing her carrying case on the table and empty chair next to Romanji, she motioned for Romanji to lean over, and she engaged the man in a whispered conversation for a few minutes. Percy just leaned back in his chair, crinkling the bag of chips up and throwing it into a waste-bucket in the corner. He was content to let them have their discussion.

"My client is declining to make a statement at this time," She said simply, but Percy just brushed the comment aside, he wasn't overly concerned.

"That's fine," he said, an easy smile on his face, "You don't have to do any of the talking, I can do more than enough of that for the three of us." He then reached down under his chair, and retrieved the file he'd placed there, he set the file down on the table by Rosthein, who didn't make a move to open it.

"You know," Percy began, idly playing with the corner of the file, "There's a lot I love about my job, but by far my favorite, is this. It brings me back to kindergarten, you know, show and tell? So, I'm going to show you some stuff, and tell you what we know, then you can make a decision sound good?" He didn't wait for an answer, "Great,"

Thumbing open the file, he pulled the first of a small stack of photographs from the inside, and placed it on the table, "The tollway took this as you were entering the city a little over a week ago. Which puts you in Gotham well within the range of the murder," Placing the photo of Romanji behind the wheel of an all-black sedan, as it entered city limits, on the desk.

"The victim was murdered a few days ago Detective, not a week and a half ago. Don't try and warp the evidence to fit your own personal narrative," Rosthein said immediately,

Percy raised a brow, "Wasn't referring to her," He said simply, before grabbing a second photo from the file.

"This is the photo taken on September the 28th, at approximately One-Thirty in the morning. The girl in the photo is Silver St. Cloud, she was shot twice in the back, before she was shot once more in between the eyes, with a nine-millimeter."

Percy tapped the photo with a finger, "We pulled a couple of partial fingerprints off of the body. They're being run against the set of prints you gave us when you were being processed earlier yesterday morning."

He grabbed a third photo from the stack, "This is John Dorsett, former employee of the Ganteer's Chauffeur company. Also shot in the back with a nine-millimeter. Decomposition on the body placed the time of death at some point early last week. His car was also missing from its stall, and we have an eyewitness who says that they saw Mr. Dorsett's car leaving his home early on the morning in question. Gets more interesting though." Percy pointed a finger at Romanji,

"We had a couple of uniformed officers go back to the penthouse, and interview some of the staff, several of them identified you, as her 'replacement driver,' after Dorsett supposedly called in and quit. Interesting thing that."

Percy said no more, and pulled the fourth photo, "This is the penthouse belonging to Grace and Alexander St. Cloud, it was broken into, and ransacked, as you can clearly see, our forensics team pulled a hair fiber from the scene, and we will be subpoenaing to have a DNA sample retrieved from Mr. Romanji,"

"We will fight that, you have presented nothing so far to link my client to either scene, you have no case for a subpoena." Rosthein shot back,

Percy smiled genially, and raised his hands in the air, "Easy there miss Rosthein, I'm not done yet."

He pulled a fifth photo, "This should familiar," Percy said cheerfully, "This is a photograph of the weapon that was retrieved from you, Mr. Romanji. It's currently in our forensics lab, being tested against the shell casings that were retrieved from the scene." Percy's smile widened, as he leaned forward, resting an arm on his leg and cupping his face in his hand, "It's also being run against our database, to see if it matches any other unsolved homicides in the country. Think we'll find anything? I bet you twenty-five to life that we do,"

Romanji didn't respond, but Percy could tell that he was starting to get worried. Attuning his senses, Percy focused on the divinity of his powers. Reaching out with his gifts, he felt for the man's heartbeat, focusing on the water in the man's blood. He quickly found what he was looking for, and latched onto the increasingly erratic beat of the man's heart. Percy could also taste and feel the sweat coming off of the man. He was getting nervous; Romanji was doing a good job of maintaining a poker face, but his body was having a much different reaction. Percy could tell that Romanji knew what was going to happen, if and when, those results came back.

He was a goner.

Leaning back, Percy grabbed a fifth photograph, and let out a laugh, "Oh man, I just love this one, I think I'll call it, 'Presenting to the jury: Exhibit A,' What do you think?" He asked, tapping the photo, "That's you, isn't it Mr. Romanji? Traffic cams picked that picture up for us about a block away from the St. Cloud Penthouse. You in the driver's seat, and if you look in the back there, you can see miss St. Cloud. This was taken on September 27th, at around eight in the morning, only a few hours before Miss. St. Cloud was murdered. What's better than that you ask?" Percy said, a shit-eating grin on his face, as he cupped a hand around his ear and pretended like he was struggling to hear,

"That license plate looks familiar? Well it should, after all, that's the license plate belonging to the since deceased John Dorsett. And I know, I know what you're going to say," Percy cut across the incoming disruption from Rosthein, "But we already checked with the chauffeur company. All company cars are owned and operated by the employee's themselves, and we have already called and checked with Ganteer's as well as any other company the St. Cloud's have used in the past. No one by the name of Alberto Romanji has ever worked for them."

Percy crossed his legs, and leaned further back into the chair, "So, let's recap: We've got you, driving the victim, hours before she was shot, with the same caliber weapon you possess, in a car that was stolen from a man who was murdered in his home, a few days after you were seen entering the city. We have your weapon being processed, along with fingerprints and I'll bet it won't be hard to get a DNA sample from you to compare to what we have in the lab."

"Still got nothing to say?" Percy laughed, and Romanji's only retort was to glare harder. But his heart was beating faster, and he was sweating even more. Percy knew that he almost had the bastard exactly where they wanted him.

"That's fine, because there's one more thing I wanted to show you, really wraps this whole thing together." Percy pulled the last photo from the stack, and placed it with the others. Both Romanji and Rosthein looked confused as they stared at the photograph, unsure what the importance behind it was.

"See this whole time, we were banging our heads together tried figure why the hell you would up and pop Dorsett like that. I mean, if you were trying to just kill Silver, a long-rifle on the opposite building of her school would have done the job just fine." Percy scratched behind an ear, his smile still in place, "So why go through all the trouble of figuring out Dorsett's schedule, killing him, and assuming his job for a week. Even then, we had a real devil of a time figuring out why the hell you'd want to kill Silver in the first place," Percy tapped the picture,

"Then the forensics egg-heads found something real interesting about this little bracelet in the photo." Percy leaned forward, like he was about to tell some kind of secret, "Turns out, it ain't a bracelet at all. It's some kind of encryption key. Think of it like a USB stick. Holds all kinds of information on it."

Romanji's composure finally broke, his eye's going round, and wide as he stared at the picture. His heartbeat, which had been fast before, became a thundering piston. Hammering away in his ribcage, beating faster with every passing moment. The perspiration on the man's face was visible, and he began breathing more heavily, as his body tried to compensate for his elevated heart-rate.

_Gotcha_

Looking the man, dead in the eye, Percy waved a hand, doing his best to make it appear nonchalant, when in reality, it was so much more. It was a trick he'd learned from the daughters of Venus. While he could not use their mother's gift as they could, and couldn't literally charm a person into doing as they said, with the right application of the mist, Percy could manipulate someone's thoughts, feelings, and desires. He could put thoughts and ideas in their head, gently guide them to the decision that was most advantageous for him.

He didn't like doing it, he hated abusing someone's free will for his own benefit, but matter's like this were something different altogether. This man had, in Percy's mind, given up his right to free will, the moment he'd turned a gun on a defenseless fourteen-year old. The moment he'd decided that murder, for the sake of wealth, was the righteous thing for him to do. Percy held no empathy for scum like that.

Yet he still didn't feel comfortable.

So, with a minor application of his mist-magic, Percy guided the man in the direction Percy wanted, started influencing him, and telling him that it was in Alberto Romanji's best interest to confess. To do as Percy asked, and to help him in any way he could.

"Let's say you somehow beat this," Percy asked, his question seemingly coming out of nowhere, while maintaining eye contact with Romanji, "Let's say that you somehow manage to get yourself out of the hole that you dug for yourself. How long until your boy Christian catches up with you? How long do you think you can run away from him?"

Romanji finally tore his gaze away from the picture, staring at Percy. His heart somehow beating even faster, to the point that the noise was damn near deafening, and Percy had to slam his connection shut with the man. Romanji looked beyond terrified, clearly, he had been thinking the same thing Percy had implied. Had known the implications of what it meant that the GCPD had that drive as evidence. He didn't even seem concerned or confused as to how Percy knew of the connection, or knew that Falcone had paid him for the job.

More importantly, he knew what it meant that he'd failed miserably.

All the while, Percy continued to influence him and his emotions. Guiding the man, terrifying him further, implanting thoughts and feelings that weren't truly his, images of the horrific things that might happen to him of Falcone found him.

_Time for the kill shot_

"You and I both know how men like him treat failure."

"I'm sorry," Rosthein butted in, speaking up for the first time in a while, "Mind explaining how that bracelet is at all relevant?"

Percy finally tore his stare away from Romanji, turning to look at the pretty lawyer, "Sorry, didn't mean to keep you out of the loop. That right there, is the motive behind the murder of Silver St. Cloud. See, miss Rosthein, I don't know how well you know your client, but your boy there has some serious connections. He's in bed with the Falcone crime family, has been doing their dirty work for years. FBI's been investigating him for a long time, him and his connections to Christian Falcone. Christian Falcone hired our boy here to kill Silver St. Cloud, and steal that little bracelet for him."

Percy shrugged, and turned back to staring at Romanji, "It would have gone off pretty well too. You probably would have disappeared into the wind, and our investigation would have hit a dead end, except there was a small problem, Falcone clearly only knew about the drive's existence, didn't know what it actually looked like. Didn't know what it really was. Otherwise, he would have told you to keep that bracelet, instead of flinging it into the garbage like last night's dinner. Only it wasn't a flash drive, or anything like that. Instead, it was that bracelet, a bracelet you threw away, thinking it wasn't important. And now we have it. He's not going to like that very much, is he, Mr. Romanji?"

Romanji didn't answer, he looked like he was too terrified to even think at the moment, but Rosthein came to his aid,

Snorting, she looked at Percy derisively, "That's pure speculation. You have nothing concrete linking my client to the Falcone crime family, no jury is going to believe pure here-say."

Percy just shrugged a shoulder and smiled at Romanji. It was a different smile to his other's though. This one was feral, the kind of wolf-like grin he'd adopted after spending so long with Lupa.

"Honestly, when we get our results back, the matter of motive will be pretty inconsequential. But say you're right, say that the prosecution doesn't get their conviction, I'm still not too worried about it. I might be new to the city, but I know how these kinds of families work. Silver St. Cloud will get her justice. It's just a matter of who dispenses it." Percy lightly drummed his fingers against his pant leg,

"Us, or him,"

""I want a deal," Romanji announced suddenly, to the shock of his lawyer,

"Mr. Romanji-" She tried to say, but he cut her off,

"Shut the hell up!" he snarled, before turning back to Percy, "I want a damn deal," he repeated,

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Percy managed not to smile in victory, and keep his expression neutral, "What could you possibly give me?" he asked, gesturing to the table in front of him, "I got everything I need to get a conviction right here,"

"How about Christian Falcone?" he asked, his eyes wide, "Huh, how about him? That big enough for you, asshole?"

They had enough on him, even before the ballistics came back, to get Romanji for the hits. That wasn't why Percy was influencing him, hell, he might not have even needed to. It was clear that Falcone had already written him off, if he was no longer sending his attorney over to Romanji's aid. But Percy was not about to take any chances on getting Falcone. Percy might have been new to Gotham, but he was well familiar with how mobs worked. He remembered vividly what had happened to those who talked, back when he was a kid in New York. They simply vanished, without a trace. Never seen again. He knew on an instinctual level, that the Falcone's operated on the same level. If they had connections to the old families, it was a guarantee.

Percy didn't say anything, he just sat still and waited, making sure to try and play hard ball. He needed the man to talk, to not only confess, but to also willingly give him as much as he was (un)willing and able to give.

"I can tell you that Christian Falcone hired me to steal a data drive from the St. Cloud girl, and then kill her. I can tell you that he was planning to do the same to the parents. I can also link him to at least six other murders, he hired me for, within the last two years." Romanji rambled out quickly, the words leaving his mouth so fast, it was like they were tumbling over one another in a race to get out first.

"Before, any of that!" Rosthein cut in, finally able to get a word in, and she glared at Percy, "I want protections for my client. Immunity to prosecutions for previous crimes not directly related to the St. Cloud murders, as well as witness protection. The Falcone crime family is notorious and I will not have my client's life be in jeopardy because the District Attorney wants to score big."

Percy shrugged, "I'm just a detective ma'am, I can run it up the chain, but you should know by now that those kinds of demands are only something the D.A.'s office can respond to."

Percy smirked,

"But I'll be sure to let him know."

BREAK

Percy clinked the side of his glass against Montoya's, before tossing the cup back, and draining half of his beer in one, enormous pull. They were in Montoya's favorite bar, a few blocks away from the precinct, having a celebratory drink.

A representative from the District Attorney's office had come by shortly after Romanji's outburst. Percy had spent the majority of the afternoon in the interview room. A written statement was prepared that Romanji signed, and he confessed into a recording device, to the murder of John Dorsett, as well as Silver St. Cloud. He then spent the next several hours confessing to every job he had ever been hired to pull for either Christian Falcone, or someone else within the crime family.

In exchange for the confession, he was granted immunity for all crimes committed prior to the Dorsett and St. Clouds. Percy hadn't been made privy to the details, but he assumed the guy was going to get some kind of a lighter sentence as part of the deal he had struck with the District Attorney's office. Percy was pessimistic that the man would even face jail time for what he'd done. Whatever his deal was, probably included some kind of witness protection, or something to that effect. Which, could be a prison of its own he supposed.

It wasn't a perfect system, far from it he was honest. But the court system was overloaded, especially in a city like Gotham, and if a deal could be struck to keep someone out of maximum security, and keep the already overcrowded jails from getting worse, it would happen. Especially if the guy was going to flip on Falcone; something Percy had personally ensured would happen.

Before he had been taken away, Percy had left the manipulation in the man's mind. Forcing it warp his thinking and cloud his judgement in a way that fit the way Percy wanted things to go. Beyond morally reprehensible as it was, Percy could semi-justify it to himself, when he thought about the bigger picture. Men like Romanji wouldn't need to exist, if there weren't men like Falcone running around, looking for paid killers in the first place.

The dirty feeling didn't go away though.

So instead, Percy was going to try and bury the dirty feeling in copious amounts of alcohol, and maybe some company for the evening. That was, after he and Montoya finished celebrating their first case together.

The woman had been nothing but smiles since they'd left the precinct, a noticeable bounce in her step. Percy couldn't blame her, in spite of the pit of disgust for what he'd done, he was also able to bask in the euphoric feeling of success. They had busted their asses all week to get this thing locked down as tightly as possible. A lot of long days, longer nights, and a shootout in a museum. They deserved the win, and they deserved to celebrate.

Montoya rubbed at her mouth with the back of her hand, grinning as she spoke, "Thought the bastard was going to piss himself!" She laughed, pounding the bar with one hand as she set her now empty glass down. Swaying slightly in her seat.

Montoya, Percy had been quick to realize, was very much a lightweight. They'd only had a couple of drinks, nothing heavy, and she already looked like she was about to fall out of her stool.

Smiling, Percy killed off the last of his glass, and reached out to steady his partner, "Easy there Monty," he said with a chuckle,

"You know Metro," Montoya said, after Percy had steadied her somewhat, "I'm really thankful to have you as a partner. I was pretty hesitant at first, thought you'd be some shithead, but we complement each other well. I don't even have to worry about ya, because I can trust that you'll do the right thing. Growing up in this cesspit, that's not a luxury I've been able to afford much."

Percy was entirely sure how to respond to that. He was touched though, beyond words. So, he settled for a smile, "Thanks Monty…I really appreciate that. And I hope you know that I feel the same. With Roger, there was some growing pains, I still didn't know what I was doing, was overly eager and constantly trying to outdo him. He eventually beat some sense into me, and I learned to take it easy, but with you, I don't need to worry about any of that. I know I got someone who's more than my equal, someone I can learn from, and who can help me grow and watch my back. We're going to do a lot of good together, you and me,"

"Damn straight!" the woman cheered, clanging her glass against Percy's once more, despite the glass being empty.

He watched in minor amusement as she still swayed slightly and laughed happily. It was nice to see the woman unwind a little. In the time he'd known her, she'd been a little high-strung. Not that it wasn't understandable, but Percy was glad to see she still had the ability to cut loose. He had seen too many times, people who lost that ability, and either burnt out, or got lost in the process,

"You're not driving home, right?" Percy asked with a laugh, though he was serious. There was no way in hell he was letting her behind the wheel of a car as she was.

She waved off his concern, "Nah, Kate's coming to pick me up,"

Percy arched an eyebrow, "Who's Kate?" he asked, and Montoya instantly clammed up. Somehow managing to stop swaying as she turned to place both arms on the bar, "Just a friend," she muttered,

_Well that's a crock_ Percy thought to himself, but decided not to say anything. He had his suspicions, but it wasn't his place to call her out on it. It was hard enough being a woman in the department, being a lesbian as well? Bad time.

Granted, Percy didn't know for certain, but he thought he had her pegged correctly. He didn't know many women to lecherously stare at other women like Montoya did, but it wasn't his place. She'd tell him when she was ready, and he was fine with that.

Montoya gestured to the bartender for another round, in a flash, a new couple of drinks were in front of Percy and Montoya.

Laughing softly, Percy pulled the cup closer, and for a moment, the two just sat in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, the pair were just trapped in their own worlds. Montoya was texting someone on her phone, her tongue poking through her teeth as she typed, and her arms still propped up against the bar.

Percy meanwhile, just scanned the scattered contents of the bar. It was quiet, not terribly surprising since it was a Thursday, so there weren't too many people there. A couple of day-trader types, sitting together at a table in the back, still in their suits from their day working the markets. A couple of college aged kids in the back corner, doing their absolute best to look like they belonged. Percy chuckled, and briefly considered going over there. Judging by the look of 'em, there was no way in hell that any of them were twenty-one, but it wasn't worth the hassle, and he wasn't on the clock.

Tracking his eyes along the wall, he stopped. There, along the back wall, sitting in an otherwise empty booth, was a woman. Dark auburn hair shaped around a heart-shaped face, and deep blue eyes. She was attractive, maybe in her late twenties or early thirties, and her eyes bore into Percy across the bar. He stiffened, slightly unnerved by the way the she was staring at him, but his body didn't react defensively. Between the legion, and his time in the service, Percy had learned to trust his body to tell him when danger was present, it was always right and had never failed him before. And at that moment, it was telling him nothing, other than he supposedly had an attractive young woman's attention.

Montoya's loud belch, drew his attention away from the woman, and he smiled as he stared at his partner, who was standing up, and pulling her coat back on. Her new glass sitting empty on the bartop.

"My ride's here," she said, her words only slurring slightly, as she pulled her arms through the sleeve of her coat, she made to pull out her wallet but Percy stopped,

"It's already on my tab, Monty, don't worry about it," he assured her,

She beamed at him, "Capable and pays for my drinks? I think I'll keep you around Metro," she laughed, and Percy joined her,

"Next time's on you Monty," he replied cheekily, and she slugged him in the arm, before placing a palm on his shoulder,

"Good work Percy," she said softly as she turned to go, "We did some real good work today. Romanji might get cut loose, but we're about to reel in one of the biggest fishes in the pond, and it's due in large part to you."

Percy just smiled at her, reaching up and patting the hand on his shoulder, he didn't need to say anything. She understood. With a final wave, she turned on her heel and only slightly stumbled out of the bar. Watching her leave, Percy turned back around in his stool, and wrapped his hand around his beer. Pulling the glass to his lips, he didn't react as a body quickly took the spot Montoya had just vacated.

Percy didn't react for a minute, curious to see what the woman would do. It was clear she wanted something, what it was, he wasn't sure yet. He just knew that it wasn't the kind of attention he'd been necessarily hoping for. She looked curious, not interested.

"Detective Jackson," the woman finally said, after it became clear that Percy wasn't going to say anything to initiate the conversation.

Percy held back a sigh, he thought he knew where this was going. More to the point, he thought he'd recognized the woman,

"Miss Vale," Percy said, still not looking at her, instead swiveling back around in his seat, to lean back against the bar.

Percy was not in the mood for whatever conversation this woman wanted. He'd finally put a name to the face. He'd recognized her from some of the articles hanging around the Planet back in Metropolis. He also, and more notably, remembered the way in which Lois would complain about Vicki Vale from the Gotham Gazette-the owner of the Daily Planet-constantly trying to outshine Lois' own columns.

Vicki Vale, and that was undoubtably who the auburn-haired woman at Percy's side was, had nearly as good of a reputation as Lois did. Unfortunately for Vicki, she didn't have the beacon for truth, justice, and the American way as her resident city superhero. Instead she was stuck with a slightly unhinged lunatic, dressed as a bat, who beat the ever-loving piss out of criminals and supervillains.

People didn't want to read about the Bat, they much preferred the Boy Scout.

"Glad to see my reputation precedes me," Vale responded, only for Percy to snort into his glass, thinking of a snide comment, but deciding it wouldn't be smart for him to say anything.

It wasn't that he actively disliked Vale, if anything she was one of the few reporter's Percy thought he could stomach. The woman was nothing if not thorough, competent, and reliable. She had a drive that mirrored Lois', and she was fastidious in making sure she had all the facts and as much of the story as possible before reporting anything. More impressively, at least to Percy, was the way she managed to keep whatever personal biases out of her writing. Managing to distance herself from controversial stances and opinions, while keeping her writing open enough to allow her readers to form their own opinion.

So yes, Percy had, in fact, a good deal of respect for the woman. He just didn't want to have to deal with her at the moment.

Especially since he knew what she wanted.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Percy mused softly, Vale's eyes not leaving his face, "It figures that if anyone would know about the new guy in town, it would be you,"

"I'll take that as a compliment," Vale said, shooting him a large smile, showing off her rows of pearly-white teeth.

Rolling his eyes, Percy still didn't look at her, or even turn to address her properly, "What can I do for you Miss Vale? And before you try and play any games, I'm very much not in the mood for, let's just skip the bullshit and jump into why you've been staring me down for the last ten minutes."

It had been a long, emotionally exhausting, and physically draining week. He just wanted a drink, time to relax, and be allowed to maybe decompress before he had to head into the precinct in the morning. In spite of the good feelings he'd been having at getting the confession and cooperation from Romanji, Percy was not in the mood to try and shake off a reporter.

"And should I even ask how you know who I am? I've literally been in the city for less than a week at this point." He asked, turning around to place his now empty glass on the bar-top. In a flash, the glass was taken and replaced. Percy took a moment to bless the fact that he could literally dilute the alcoholic content in his bloodstream if need be.

Vale tilted her head to one side, examining him curiously, "Lane told me about you," she finally said after a moment.

That got his attention; as he finally turned to look at the woman head on.

"Lane?" He asked, incredulous,

"As in Lois, yes." Vale said back easily, her tone dry and amused, "Sounded like she was pretty worried about you. Something going on I should know about,"

Percy had to force himself not to react to the question. Any type of over reaction on his part could be misinterpreted in a way he didn't want. For himself or for Lois, even if there might have been some truth to it. So instead, he settled for an unamused look, the kind he'd given fresh boots on deployment.

"Sheesh," Vale said, waving him off, "I'm just teasing you,"

"Why the hell would Lois ask you, of all people, to look for me,"

Vale crossed her arms under her chest, and glared at Percy, "Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" She demanded hotly.

Percy continued to stare at her. The silence stretched on an uncomfortably long time, before Vale relented with a huff,

"You're as stubborn as she is, no wonder you got along," Vale grumbled to herself, before addressing Percy properly, "Ok, so maybe Lane and I aren't on the greatest terms, but that doesn't mean we can't be civil and professional with one another. Especially when she offers me an in, with the GCPD."

"She did what?" Percy demanded hotly, getting even more annoyed by the moment.

"She told me that you'd act as my insider source, just like you were for her, back in Metropolis." She answered sweetly, a honey suckle smile on her cherry lips.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Percy denied vehemently.

Truthfully, he knew exactly what she was talking about. It had happened back when he was still a junior, he'd gotten in over his head with Lois and Jimmy, after they'd gotten themselves out of the mess they'd made, they came to an…arrangement of sorts. People like Lois could often get to places and people that a cop couldn't. Simply being who she was, opened doors and got connections that Percy would never have. In exchange for helping Percy out on occasion, he would act as the insider of the MCPD, and give first-hand information to Lois and Jimmy on any big cases he ended up on.

"Look, Percy," Vale said, straightening in her seat, her sharp gaze softening somewhat, "I'm doing this, yes, because I want someone inside GCPD to feed me stories. From what Lois told me, you're a trouble magnet, and I'm sure if I stick around you, I'll be elbow deep in it. But…that's not everything." She looked marginally uncomfortable, and she shifted slightly in her seat,

"I've rarely heard Lois sound worried like she was, but she told me what happened to your last partner, why you transferred, she really just wants you to have someone you can rely on in the city, someone she trusts to look out for you. Gotham isn't Metropolis, as I'm sure you've already noticed, things happen here. I heard about your little shootout at Wayne's auction. That happens, frighteningly regularly here. You're going to need friends in this town if you want to survive a month."

Percy frowned at that, his chest clenching rather painfully at the thought of Lois being worried about him. But he squelched the feeling like he'd done so many times, with little effort.

"And why should I trust you?" He asked,

She shrugged, "Because Lois does. I know we have a…history," Percy snorted, which Vale ignored, "But we still respect one another. She told me you worked your ass off, that you were really one of the good ones. Something Gotham desperately needs. People in this city need people to look up to, who don't hide behind a mask. I think we could be those people."

Then she smirked, "Besides, you're a meal ticket I sure as hell wouldn't want to waste. Not even in Gotham a full week and you help take down the Royal Flush Gang and solve the homicide of the daughter of some of the most influential people in the city."

Percy froze, then sighed, "I shouldn't even be surprised that somehow you know about that, should I?"

She gave him a wicked smile,

"You really shouldn't be," she said, before extending a hand out, "So, what do you say? Partners?"

Before Percy could even think about responding, however, the earth itself began to shake. There was a loud crash from somewhere outside the building, as screams began to tear through the air outside. It sounded as though the earth itself was being torn open.

Percy acted on instinct, rising form the chair, making sure to throw down a wad of cash on the countertop as he did so, and charging out of the building. The sun was just starting to set, the orange glow of the fading light reflecting off the glass monoliths of the city's skyline. It would have been a beautiful sight, had it not been for the Armageddon taking place.

The earth itself, had indeed, opened up. Everywhere Percy looked, there were enormous holes in the earth. Craters and crevices in the concrete, and paved sidewalks. But that wasn't the most terrifying sight. Shooting up, high into the clouds and the skyline, were enormous vines, and plant-like creatures. They were dark green, and covered in red thorns.

And they seemed like they were alive.

The plants moved, writhed, and undulated. There was a creaking of metal beams, and the sounds of steel bars bending and breaking, and Percy watched in mounting horror, as the windows of a nearby building exploded, showering the street in glass, as another of the plant-like monsters rose from within. A few moments later, there was another screech of groaning metal, as the building itself collapsed around the plant. Dust, debris, and particulates exploded into the streets, and Percy had to raise a hand to his face, to cover his mouth from the rising dust storm.

"What the hell…" Came a trembling voice from beside him. Turning, Percy saw that Vicki Vale had followed him out of the bar, and was watching in mounting horror, as the city itself seemed to begin collapsing in on itself.

Percy grimaced, pulling his personal sidearms from the holster on his back. Quickly, he pulled the magazine from the holster as well, and slammed it into the weapon, before racking the slide, and loading a bullet into the chamber.

"Does Gotham have a bunker system like Metropolis?" Percy asked quickly,

Vale shook herself from her shock, turning to look at him, her eyes wide and scared, "N-no, we've seen some bad stuff over the years but nothing like this,"

Percy grimaced, he needed to get to work, he could screams coming from a nearby building, and he could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, likely dispatch calling to relay orders, turning quickly back to Vale he issued his orders,

"I don't think anywhere will be truly safe, but head back inside the bar, and get the inhabitants to hunker down, get low, and under cover if at all possible. I'll find you when this is over,"

He didn't get a chance to hear her response, as he took off at a dead sprint in the direction of the trapped civilians, pulling his phone out of his pocket, he raised it to his ear,

"This is Jackson, what are my orders?"

It was time for the soldier, to head back to war.

**AN: So, here we are again, using the mist in different ways. Since we literally know next to nothing as a fandom about what it can and can't do. Fuck it, it's god magic, what can't it do? Minor manipulation to receive a desired outcome, all at the expense of your own sense of morality and personal code of ethics. Percy you poor bastard. Aside from that, time to finally meet up again with the actual YJ plot!**

**I've been subtly building up to this for a while and I'm pumped that it's finally here. I've always loved the idea of watching regular people endure super villain attacks. Like what are regular folks doing when Batman is beating the piss out of some dude who's frozen half the city. What's going on there? This story largely explores that, and the ramifications of super heroism. Next chapter is the end of the arc, and includes some of my favorite scenes and exchanges I've ever written.**

**Also, it was brought to my attention that HBO is doing a show, set in the new Batman universe, centered around the GCPD. Think someone read my shitty fanfiction and decided it was a good idea?! Kidding, but maybe?**

**Thanks again for all the love and support, ya'll continue to be incredible! Stay safe, and love you all and I'll see you tomorrow for the final chapter of the arc!**

**Love, **

**LilDB**


	12. Ashes To Ashes

_Building on forty-third and forty-second just crumbled! Another plant just burst through the ground!_

_Got civilians trapped under rubble near the one-oh-two!_

_The bridge over Gotham river just collapsed!_

_Getting reports of gas coming from the plants, repeat: reports of gas coming from the plants. All units, proceed with caution. _

_It's Joker Gas, that Bastard! _

_Just received a report that Batman, Shazam, and Zatara are working on eliminating the plants near Police Plaza. Black Canary spotted near the turnpike! Has anyone heard from Dr. Parker?!_

Percy did his best to ignore the chatter squeaking from the radio at his hip, unless he got word of something in his area, the reports were unhelpful to him at the moment.

It was getting hard to see through the lenses on his gas mask, he had retrieved it from the trunk of his car, along with his department issue shotgun, shortly after leaving Vale at the bar. He had seen several pods from one of the plants burst, covering a group of nearby firefighters' in a noxious looking yellow-green gas. Within moments, the firefighters had collapsed to the ground, laughing uncontrollably until they started foaming at the mouth. Before long, they had been little more than twitching, lifeless husks.

There had been nothing he could do.

Theoretically, Percy didn't need the gas mask. He hadn't actually ingested the poisonous gas yet, but he found out during his time overseas, that he could filter most toxins and poisons out of his body. Still, he needed to keep up appearances, with Batman already knowing about his abilities, he couldn't risk anyone else finding out what he was.

There was an explosion a few hundred yards from where he was running, as the underground pipes of a nearby gas station ignited, and the entire building blew. Over the roar of the flames, and the blaring sirens of nearby patrol units, Percy was able to make out the sounds of screams coming from near the building.

Changing his trajectory, Percy took off as fast as his legs could carry him, in the direction of the inferno. He momentarily considered the ramifications of charging into the inferno, but ultimately decided against it. It wasn't that he was afraid of the fire, after an encounter with a Wyrm in his youth he had discovered that he was largely immune to fire. Still, he would need to move quick, it would look strange if he came out unscathed from running directly into a wall of literal fire.

Vaulting over the flaming hood of a parked car, Percy followed the sounds of the screaming, and charged blindly into the burning gas station. Flames licked at the sides of his clothing, and at the soles of his shoes, but he ignored it, kicking the door of the building in, and running into the blazing store.

"GCPD," He announced, "Is there anyone in here?"

"Over here, help!" Someone called from over by the counter. Percy fought his way through the fire, and the collapsed shelves of snacks and other gas station merchandise. What had once been the check-out counter, was a charred pile of rubble, and Percy could make out through the smoke, the small form of someone desperately clawing at debris. It was a young man, his clothing coated in soot, and charred from the flames. Skidding to a stop, Percy knelt down next to the man, placing his shotgun on the ground next to him, and began clawing through rubble at twice the speed as the man beside him.

Within moments, Percy had successfully dug through the debris, and saw the blue fabric of a shirt. Grabbing a fistful, Percy pulled, successfully yanking out the small body of the little girl trapped under the rubble.

"You're ok sweetheart, I got you," Percy said softly, yanking his mask of, and securing it around the girl's head. With as much smoke in the air as there was, he didn't want to risk the girl inhaling too much of the noxious fumes, it would be incredibly more hazardous to her developing body than to Percy's.

"She yours?" He asked to the man beside him, who nodded, and all but yanked the little girl out of Percy's arms. The flames were becoming even hotter, so without asking for permission, Percy gripped the man, cradling what Percy imagined was his daughter in his arms, and Percy all but dragged the pair out of the burning wreckage of the building, making sure to grab his shotgun as he did so.

The threesome stumbled through the flames of the ruined station lot, before finally making it clear to the other side of the street that was, blessedly, not on fire.

"GCPD has a safe-zone a block north, head there now!" Percy shouted, already peeling away from the startled civilians.

"Wait!" Came a squeaky voice from behind him, and Percy turned in time to see the little girl, with some help from her father, pulled the gas mask free of her tiny face, and held it out to Percy.

With a smile, Percy nodded his face, before grabbing the mask, and placing it back on his head, fighting back a grimace as he did so.

_I really hate pretending to be mortal sometimes_

His radio chirped to life at his hip,_ "Any units in the vicinity of Finger and Moore, we are receiving reports of plants in the area, civilians trapped," _

"_Unit Forty-Six, en-route,"_ Percy immediately responded to the hail, as he made a sharp left at the next intersection.

_How the hell could this happen again. Another goddamn Metropolis. Another city destroyed. And for what? _

He swallowed the bile that threatened to build up in his stomach, he didn't have the time to be righteously angry. Not with the world burning around him, and not with so many innocents still getting caught in the crossfire.

Making another turn, he had to duck, as a large vine, belonging to one of the plant creatures, lashed out in his direction. Sliding underneath the incoming vine, Percy brought his weapon to bear, aimed, and fired. The buck of the weapon impacting his shoulder with a dull thud. Green goo, and plant viscera exploded from where the buckshot impacted. There was a loud whining and keening, that seemed as though it came from the plant itself. Percy paid it no mind, however, and fired off another three rounds in rapid succession, effectively tearing the vine and plant in half.

Things would have been considerably easier if he was comfortable using his powers. Usually, the power of the mist would shroud the abilities of demigods, but that was only when his kind were battling monsters or others of his ilk. The mist, even with proper manipulation on Percy's part, might not have been able to fully protect him from scrutiny.

Especially not in the digital age where everyone had a cellphone with a built-in camera. All it would take was one person, seeing the wrong thing and uploading it on the internet, and everything Percy had so carefully crafted would come crashing down around him.

There was also the matter that Percy detested using his powers. Detested what they represented, and worse still, detested what they reminded him of.

He could handle the minor things, following blood trails, listening to heart-rates, and identifying targets by feeling and seeing masses of water. But shaping that water? Utilizing the powers, he had been born with in a combative fashion? He detested it. After the war, after his greatest failure, he had promised himself not to resort to those powers, unless absolutely necessary. It was partially for his own safety. Percy's abilities were far from subtle. They were powerful, and uncontrollable, much like the sea itself. But more to the point, they were visually impressive. It was hard to hide when someone summoned several hundred gallons of water, or was causing earthquakes or storms with their mind itself.

But Percy was also being selfish. He was being prideful. And most of all, he was being respectful. Respectful to those he had failed, to those his powers and great strength had killed. He had vowed to never use those abilities to take a life. Not directly. Not after what he'd done.

He wouldn't be the man he had been before. He couldn't be.

He just wanted to be normal. Desperately so.

The wriggling mass of vines and earth-matter was of no consequence after Percy had blown it to high hell, and so he focused on where he thought the civilians would be trapped. It wasn't hard to figure out where the call had originated from. One of the office buildings on the street had been next to where a plant had emerged. Half of the street facing wall had been torn away; the innards of the office building spilling out onto the streets below. The other half, had caved into the building next to it, threatening to pull that structure down with it.

Nearby, a fire crew was attempting to put out the flaming husk of a grocery store, before it threatened to engulf the entire street. They were too focused on the flames to be of any help to those still trapped in the other building. So Percy ran as hard as he could in the direction of the collapsed offices. A patrol office materializing from nowhere and pulling alongside him.

Brown hair, and black eyes; the officer was on the taller side, just around six foot, and not overly proportioned, cut more like a gymnast than like Percy.

"O-officer Jack Drake sir, I, um, got the same call about the office building," he said, his breath coming out in shallow pants as he tried to keep up with Percy's blistering pace. He also sounded scared to death, his voice almost whimpering part of his introduction.

_Get it together man, people need you right now_ Percy thought, a little disparagingly,

Percy only nodded, his attention still focused on the building,

"Any idea what the hell is going on?" Percy shouted, vaulting over a barricade, Officer Drake following suite,

"Some group of villains calling themselves, 'The Injustice League,' sir," Drake responded, "This, um, looks like Ivy's work, and I-I've been hearing over the radio that the damn c-clown's personal gas is involved too."

Percy couldn't quite contain the growl that reverberated through his chest.

_Again, the rise of the contemporary hero, and the destruction that follows in their wake. _

Percy shook his head of the thoughts,

"Sweep the lower floors, get anyone out that you can. When you're done, get that fire crew over here asap. No telling if or when this building might be going down," Percy ordered.

The man simply nodded his head before complying. As they entered the apartment building, Officer Drake veered off to the right, heading down a collapsed hallway, and banging on doors and making announcements to any potential survivors.

Percy, however, took to the stairs,

Taking the steps three at a time, Percy rounded the first landing, and charged down the shattered and crumbling hallway. He had to dodge out of the way, and hug the far wall, as a piece of the floor above suddenly fell through, falling directly where Percy had been standing moments before.

Not bothering to stop, or even slow down, Percy focused what little of his birthright he was willing to use, and focused on searching for the familiar bodies of water, that made up the blood of human beings. He locked in on a shape, trapped in the remnants of an office at the end of the hall. He could also see two more bodies in the building on the same floor, on the other side of the hall, and three bodies on the floor above,

He burst into the room, hopping over falling desks, chairs, and cubicles, calling out as he did so, "This detective Percy Jackson of the GCPD, is there anyone still alive in here!" His sweat, and the moisture of his body was starting to fog up the lens of his mask, instead of willing the fog away, Percy simply tore the offending structure from his face. If he really needed it, he'd use it.

"H-help me, help me please, I-I-I'm stuck!" Cried a feminine voice, and minor relief flooded through Percy. As useful as his abilities were, he hadn't been so certain that the person had been alive. Jumping over the final desk, Percy found the young woman, her leg caught under part of the ceiling as it had caved in around her. The block of ceiling was almost certainly too heavy for a normal person to lift.

Percy only hesitated for half a second, before deciding it was worth the potential risk, the lives of others was always worth it.

Getting down on one knee, Percy gripped the underside of the slab, and made as much of a show as he possibly could of hefting the block with all his might. In reality, to a man with his enhanced strengths, the block was no heavier than the weight bar, but he still needed to put the effort in to make it look like an extraneous task.

Lifting the block just enough so that the woman could free her leg, Percy let the block fall, before crouching down next to the woman,

"Can you stand?" he asked, doing his best to portray a calm and confident appearance. In these types of stressful environments, civilians needed reassurance, as much as they often needed help.

The woman, a pretty dark-haired woman in her early thirties shook her head, "I-I don't think so, I t-think it m-might be b-b-broken," her voice cracked in pain and fear as she spoke,

"Do I have your permission to lift you up," Percy asked, and the woman quickly nodded her head. Reaching under her, taking care not to jostle the leg too much, Percy hefted the woman into a soft carry, and turned and made his way as quickly and gently out of the building as he could.

Once outside the building, Percy was pleased to see that a contingent of firefighters, as well as a fresh ambulance and team of paramedics had arrived at the scene. The building the firefighters had been combatting was mostly put out, so there were a large number of available bodies to assist in clearing the building.

Percy wasted no time in depositing the woman on a gurney, brought his way by an approaching pair of paramedics. As he dropped off the woman, Drake, and a pair of teenage boys, and a man in his late fifties jogged out of the building, none looking worse for wear, but Drake's face was still holding an undercurrent of fear and disbelief at the situation he'd found himself.

Percy turned to a pair of firefighters' who were jogging up to him, their faces red, and sweat glistening on their cheeks and foreheads,

"Two more trapped on the second floor, on the east side, three on the floor above. One on the eastern wall, and two on the west." Percy relayed as fast as possible. The crew members nodded their thanks, before splintering off to head into the building.

Percy's radio crackled to life once more,

"_Call for a 10-15 near the bodega. Potential 10-17 in the garment district. Reports indicate armed and potentially dangerous; any available units please respond." _

Percy brought the radio at his hip to his lips, "_Unit Forty-Six, firefighters, clearing the building on Finger and Moore. Officer's Jackson and Drake en-route to the Garment District to respond to possible 10-17." _

"_Unit Forty-Six, acknowledged."_

Turning to the now shaking Drake, Percy asked, "You loaded Officer?"

"W-what?" Drake asked, looking petrified at the thought of live fire being exchanged,

Percy growled, but tried to reign in his temper, "Load your side-arm Officer, we're taking that call." Before the man could think to muster a response, Percy had turned, and was running toward the Garment District, less than half a block away. Reaching into his pocket, Percy relieved several more shell casings, and racked them into his rifle.

_Never underestimate the greed of humanity to take advantage of a terrible situation. _

BREAK

_Nothing like the end of the world to sober you up _Montoya thought sardonically. Reaching her arms out, she grabbed the small child from the crew member, as he hefted her out of the building. Hefting the little boy into her arms, she then turned, and deposited the crying child into the arms of a local paramedic.

It had been like this for what felt like hours. One crisis fixed, only for twelve more to pop up simultaneously. It didn't help that it seemed like no matter how many of the plants that were killed, even more emerged to fix the gap. Even with the combined efforts of Batman, Shazam, Black Canary and Zatara, there seemed to be no end in sight for the plants that Montoya knew, had to belong to Ivy.

But that wasn't the most disconcerting thing about their situation. She had been in her apartment, with Kate, for the television announcement. Had seen the heavy hitters calling themselves the 'Injustice League' the foil to the defenders of the planet. The antithesis to everything the Justice League stood for.

It was unprecedented. Sure, there had been times in which villains had teamed up. Penguin and Freeze. Ivy and Quinn. Moth and Firefly. But they never ran in groups of more than two, never teamed up like these psychopaths seemed to be doing. It was a nightmare scenario. The idea that supervillains, people who went toe to toe with the most powerful people on the planet, teaming up to spread as much death, destruction, and mayhem as humanly possible.

And all for only a couple hundred million dollars? That didn't sit right with Montoya. There was something else happening there. But that wasn't her concern at the moment. Her concern was trying to stop as much of the bleeding to her city as possible. To put out as many fires, stop as many plants, and rescue as many civilians as she possibly could, and hope and pray that the Justice League would be able to stop whatever was going on.

However she couldn't just leave it at that. No, something was nagging at her, gnawing at her subconscious; a torrent of thoughts and emotions begging to be unleashed.

Maybe Metro had a point?

Nobody was a bigger believer in heroes that Montoya. Nobody championed the righteous cause of people like Batman like she did. She remembered the days before the bat. Remembered being too scared to leave her home alone, even in the middle of the day. The bodies, the disappearances ,the rampant corruption.

Then the Bat appeared, and then the others. All of sudden, those who had the power to cause fear, and terror, who had been in control; the system they had so carefully structured to maintain their individual monopolies on power and wealth began to crumble away. Citizens in Gotham had hope; hope that they would be safe, hope that there was an end to the terror, the crime and the brutality.

Unless they'd grown up in Gotham, other people just couldn't possibly understand.

And then the Justice League had formed. Humanity, the entire world, had protectors and care-givers. People with the power, and sense of responsibility to use their greater powers and abilities to help people, had joined together to do everything they could to protect the citizens of their planet from all forms of terror. Both on their little green marble, and off.

For a while, it had seemed like things might have been changing.

But had it?

Had anything really changed?

Things had been bad before, mobsters, gangbangers, and terrifyingly power criminals had run Gotham, but they were at least human. They could be shot. They could bleed. And they couldn't level entire cities with a single thought.

Not like what was happening in Gotham. Not like what was happening in cities across the world at that very moment.

Did Metro have a point?

Was it truly an endless cycle of continually escalating violence? When did it end? Would it ever end?

Before superheroes, the kind of catastrophe of the plants attacking the city had been mere fantasy. Something that only happened in movies, tv, or cheesy comic books. It sure as hell wasn't something that was supposed to happen in real life.

And yet here she was, standing in the street, and watching as Shazam streaked through the sky, one of the large plants held firmly in his grasp, as he punted the mass of flora out of earth's damn gravitational field and into who only knew where.

This was only the beginning. Criminals were teaming up, they were getting smarter, more clever. More dangerous, and why? Because heroes had been doing the same thing. Because they were sick of losing. And that meant that they'd hurt, and slaughter, as many people as possible, to win the game.

She finally understood what Metro had been trying to say to her. Had finally understood the haunted, angry, and defeated look in his eyes, as he had relived the armageddon that had been the attack on Metropolis only a few short months before.

Montoya had seen footage of the attack, had watched as an entire city had been reduced to rubble, because of the squabble of a pair of beings, who were closer to god's than men. It hadn't registered with her, not fully, the sheer scale of the destruction, and the danger, that beings like that created, simply by existing.

Montoya's head throbbed, whether it was from the philosophical meltdown she was in the process of having, or she was unfortunate enough to be having a hangover mid-catastrophe; it didn't seem to matter all that much.

"Montoya!" A familiar, baritone voice called out, pulling the woman away from her raging thoughts. Turning, she watched as the familiar form of Harvey Bullock, lumbered toward her. She'd never been one for mystery novels, even as a child, but she was familiar enough with tropes to recognize that Senior Detective Harvey Bullock was as cliche a detective as they came. Aging, in his late forties, with dark raggedy black hair that fell like curtains around his light blue eyes, and the protruding gut of a man who'd given up on exercise in favor of sweets. He was a bitter, spiteful man, but he was a good cop, and had been Montoya's own partner for some time.

He jogged over to her, his breaths coming in heaving gasps. For once, the grouchy old bat was covered in something other than his own lunch. The trilby on his head was slouching on the crown of his head, barely covering the sweat-coated mop of hair underneath. His pale yellow dress shirt was stained dark, with a combination of what looked like sweat, soot, and possibly blood.

It was the first time Montoya had really seen the man look his rank.

"It's damn good to see ya in one piece Renee," He said, sidling up to her, and reaching a hand out for her to shake. Montoya took the man's larger hand in her own, trying not to grimace at the cold, sweaty, grip.

"Good to see you too Harv, hell of a day," Montoya said back, retrieving her hand, and surreptitiously wiping it off on her vest.

Bullock snorted, "That's one word for it," He crowed, his thick Massachusetts accent petering into his voice, "More like, the whole damn world is coming down on top of of us again. Another one of them freaks shows, only the time, theres a whole damn group of em!" He huffed, and placed his hand on his belt, "Told ya," He said, wagging a finger in her direction, "I told ya that those freaks in the tights would bring us nothing but trouble, but did you listen to me, no, of course no-"

Bullocks speech was cut off, as suddenly the radio on both of their hips squawked to life, and Percy's familiar voice, flooded the broadband network.

"_This is Unit Forty-Six, Code-2, Code-2"_

"_Code-2 Acknowledged, All unit's Code-1, Unit forty-six, what is your situation," _

"_10-78 at the Garment District. Facing heavily armed resistance. 10-17 was false, repeat, not a 10-17, these are not looters. Armed men, with assault weaponry at the Garment District, requesting additional units now!"_ The pronouncement was followed by another spurt of high-velocity ammunition tearing through the radio. There was a gasp, and then a startled cry of pain.

"_10-999! 10-999! Officer down, repeat officer down on Dini and Englehart,"_ There was the sound of a large caliber weapon being discharged several times.

"_Unit Forty-Six Standby," _

The radio was silent for a moment, _"Unit Forty-Six, all additional units are unable to comply," _

"_10-9 Dispatch?" _

"_I say again, no additional units are able to respond, all units are currently-"_

"_Unit Forty-Four to Dispatch, 10-4 on Unit Forty-Six's 10-999. En-route to last known." _Montoya cut in. She had begun moving toward her squad car the second Percy had called for the 10-78, also known as an officer assistance hail. She had re-doubled her run when the triple nine was called in, shouting a pair of paramedics to follow her in to help out the beleaguered officers.

She had all but thrown herself behind the wheel of her vehicle, all traces of intoxication having left her in the wake of the sheer panic flooding her system. She was worried about Percy to be sure. She liked the man, they pair of them got along well, and he was challenging, in a good way, her own thoughts and beliefs. But she didn't know him well enough to be as scared as she was about his being in danger.

No, Montoya was scared of failing again. Of failing another partner. She was terrified by the idea that she might lose one more person, whose back she was charged with protecting. She wouldn't let that happen. Not again, never again.

She flicked on the emergency lights, leaving the siren off for the moment, and had been about to peel out into the street, when the passenger door opened, and Bullock's large bulk squeezed into the passenger seat.

"Brother's in trouble, I ain't about to let one of our own go out like that." He said simply, and Montoya couldn't repress the smile on her face.

Bitter old crone that he was, Bullock was nothing if not loyal.

Without another word, Montoya peeled away from the building she'd been evacuating, and began making her way eastward towards the Garment District.

They maneuvered their way through the battered city. Doing their best to evade other emergency personnel and fleeing and panicking citizens.

"Look out!" Bullock cried suddenly, as they turned onto a street that ran parallel to the Garment District.

Montoya swore, and jerked the wheel violently, as the blonde-haired form of Black Canary streaked through air, as she was smacked violently by the extending vine of one of the larger plants. She watched in muted awe, as the woman recovered into a back handspring, landing on the hood of a nearby truck, before launching a supersonic cry into the plant directly in the path of Montoya's cruiser.

The sound-based attack tore into the plant. Shredding, and battering the plant, which tore apart, a keening cry of pain and agony escaping from the dying monstrosity. Montoya didn't have time to waste, and floored the pedal, the engine roaring in response as she brought the wheels up to the curb to get around the remnants of the plant.

"This shit needs to stay in Metropolis where it belongs," Bullock grumbled under his breath, one hand gripping onto the passenger handle over the door, the other clutching his old service revolver like a lifeline.

Rounding the final corner, she saw the carnage of the Garment District. It looked far less like the fashion capital of the city, and much more like an active war-zone. Brunt out and overturned vehicles littered the street, windows to shops were cracked, or outright destroyed. On the far end of the district, Montoya could see the smoke, and small skirts of flames, coming out of several storefronts. Streetlights were toppled, waste bins strewn aside, and the massive, shriveled husks of once alive monster plants, were scattered around the roadside.

On one side of the street, Montoya saw several masked men, wielding heavy assault weaponry, and wearing clown-masks, firing from behind overturned cars, and from the inside of buildings. They were firing at a separate store, on the opposite side of the street. She watched, still running, as the dark hair of Percy poked out from the side of one of the buildings, shotgun raised, and firing several slugs in quick succession at the opposing force. Someone yelled, and collapsed to the ground in a heap, and Percy ducked back behind cover, just as another volley of fire tore into where he had been moments before.

"God dammit, what are they doing here, thought we got the rest of them locked up in Blackgate after last time," Bullock said, his eyes narrowing.

He was referring to the men in the clown masks.

Joker's personal henchmen. The devout, almost fanatical followers of the clown prince of crime. Terrors that were nearly every bit as psychotically unhinged as the clown himself. They were extremely violent, and somehow even more disciplined. Bullock was right though, a raid several months had supposedly captured the remnants of the clown's personal gang, locked up in of the Joker's old hideaways on Amusement Mile. Apparently, they hadn't gotten all of them.

She didn't know if the Joker had ordered his men to attack during the plant invasion, or they were simply taking advantage of the chaos already in place to cause more violence and bloodshed, but it was a moot point at the moment. The priority was getting Metro the backup he desperately needed, and getting medical assistance to the wounded officer.

They were lucky, the clowns hadn't noticed them as they pulled up into the intersection, too concerned with their ongoing assault on Percy's less than fortified position in a neighboring storefront. Hopping out of the cruiser, Montoya ran to the trunk, and opened it, pulling out the standard issue Assault Rifle, that most Gotham Detectives carried locked in their trunks. While many departments were trying to move away from such military armaments, the GCPD had no such luck. The types of violent crimes that were all too common in the city made having heavy weaponry a necessity.

Pulling the weapon free, Montoya slipped several additional magazines into her coat and pants pockets, before slamming a fresh clip into her rifle.

Pulling her radio from her side, Montoya spoke into the mic, _"Unit Forty-Four to Unit Forty-Six, Secure Channel Seven,"_ She said, before switching her radio to the new channel, there was a burst of static, before the sound of live rounds impacting a nearby wall, came over the speaker,

"_Seven secure, Forty-Four, send it."_ came Percy's voice, calm as though he were discussing the weather. Montoya bit back a grin, leave it to Metro to stay as calm as a cucumber in the shit like he was.

"_Got your 20 in the storefront. Officer Bullock and I will flank and engage at range. What's the status on the triple 9?" _

"_Check. Officer is stable but needs immediate evac." _

"_Copy, you already announce?"_

"_Yes, but it couldn't hurt do it a second time, put on a body cam earlier. On your call or mine?" _

"_Yours"_

"_10-4"_

Montoya cleared the channel before exchanging a look with Bullock, who nodded grimly, before hunkering down, and taking off at a crouched run down the other end of the street, in order to flank around the firing clowns.

Montoya ducked down, getting into a combat crouch, before moving into her own position, taking cover behind a burnt-out and overturned semi-truck. Peeking around the corner, she watched and waited for Bullock to get into position. Less than thirty seconds passed, before she saw the brief flash of his light, indicating he was ready and in position.

For a moment, nothing happened, and then Percy's loud, deed voice tore through the mayhem.

"GCPD, this is your last warning, lay down your arms and surrender yourselves into custody or we will be forced to open fire!"

A spray of automatic fire in Percy's direction was all the answer the Montoya needed.

Raising her rifle, Montoya sighted a target, the clown nearest to her own position, firing what looked like a modified pistol, augmented to fire fully automatic rounds, into Percy's position. Montoya steadied her breathing, before compressing the trigger. There was a single bark from the rifle, and a light kick into her shoulder, as the weapon recoiled. The head of the man she'd been aiming at, exploded in a violent rush of blood, brain, and viscera, as his life was extinguished.

As soon as her file fired, there was a similar bark, though substantially higher in pitch, coming from Bullock's position, as another clown fell to the street. Of the seven clowns that had been firing at Percy's position, there were only five left. Three of the five turned, two in the direction of Montoya, and one towards Bullock, as they stared in confusion at the lifeless bodies of their former comrades.

Apparently, Percy was not one to waste an opportunity. The loud and low bark of a shotgun shook the air, as two more men fell in rapid succession. One screamed, as his arm was violently shredded off of his body. The other's chest erupted, as the slug of Percy's shotgun tore through the body armor, he had been wearing like it was tissue paper, and blowing a hole out of the man's back.

Montoya took the opportunity to advance, calling out as she did so, "This is the GCPD, lower your weapons, and get down on the ground now! This will be your only warning!"

She got her response to her announcement, in the form of a wall of bullets. Montoya threw herself down on the ground, pressing flat against the surface of the street, just as a wall of gunfire ripped through the air where she had been standing a moment ago. She knew she couldn't maintain that position, without getting torn to pieces, so she rolled, positioning herself under the axels of another abandoned vehicle. Crawling forward so she was even with the front tires, she raised her rifle again, sighting one of the clowns, as it approached, assault rifle raised, he previous position.

Depressing the trigger two more times, a pair of rounds impacted the advancing man in the chest, the 5.56 ap ammunition tearing through the makeshift armor as though it weren't even there. The man stumbled, as though he wasn't sure what had happened, before his rifle dropped from his hands, and he collapsed face first on the cement.

The firing picked up once again, this time, coming across as frantic, and panicked. She was in the process of pulling herself free of the vehicle she'd been using for cover when she saw Percy attack. Leaping over the concrete divider that kept pedestrians from the typically busy street, Percy tackled on of the remaining men, the pair colliding into the cement in a heap.

There was the tell-tale crackle of a taser jumping to life, and a squeak of surprise and pain, as Percy jammed the taser into the ribcage of one of their attackers. Percy then turned on his heel, ducking as the final man tried to bring his rifle to bear on Percy's chest. Percy gripped the rifle around the barrel, and yanked it towards, and away from him, pulling the attacker along with it. The strength and speed of the sudden move, caused the clown to stumble, as the rifle was ripped from his grasp. Percy, faster than she'd seen someone move, then pivoted, putting himself behind the attacker. Reaching out, Percy wrapped both of his arms around the man's midsection, and wrapped his right leg around the clown's own right leg. In one fluid motion, Percy threw the clown to the ground, and rolled so that he was on top of him. Yanking the man's arms behind his back and neatly and quickly securing them in a pair of restraints.

Panting lightly, Montoya dug herself out from under the vehicle, and began a slow trek over to Percy, her weapon raised, and scanning her surroundings. Just because it appeared as though the remainder of the clowns had been taken down; it didn't mean that there weren't more potentially waiting somewhere in the wings.

Seeing no one, and not getting fired upon, Montoya cleared her sights, and lowered her weapon, coming to a rest as Percy finished restraining the clown, he'd tasered.

"Learn that one in the service?" She asked nonchalantly, as Percy stood up over the body of the groaning clown,

"Summer camp, actually," Percy shot back, a cheeky smile on his face, before gesturing to her to follow.

As she looked at his back, and trailed behind the larger man, a weight seemed to disappear off of her shoulders, that she hadn't even realized had been there. Hearing Percy's call for assistance, had damn near frozen her. Her thoughts consumed by the images of arriving too late, again, and finding another partner in a pool of his own blood.

Another failure.

Her failure.

She released a shuddering breath, and tried to push the images form her mind. Her partner was ok, for the moment, and they needed to focus on the securing their wounded comrade. The pair clambered over the threshold of a small barricade Percy had erected for himself, Bullock joining them in their approach, and introducing himself to Percy as he did so.

The man was pale, and shivering, a hand gripping a makeshift bandage on his left shoulder, whimpering slightly as the trio approached.

"Got the bleeding to stop," Percy muttered, "But I think he's in shock. Completely unresponsive. I think he might be having a full breakdown. Kept muttering about leaving the force, going into architecture or something like that. I don't know, but we need to get him out of here."

Montoya nodded her head ruefully. It was a painfully common occurrence in Gotham. The types of nightmares that were faced on a daily basis, the types of psychotic criminals running around. Full mental breaks were far from uncommon.

As Percy hefted the quivering man into a carry, and the three moved through the wreckage of the street, Montoya sighed.

It was going to be a very long night.

BREAK

Percy did his best to stifle the yawn that threatened to split his face. It had been a long time since he'd felt as exhausted as he did. The plant's started disappearing shortly after he, Montoya, and Bullocks altercation with the clowns. The League, apparently, had finally managed to figure out what was going on, and managed to put a stop to it. But, just because the plants had stopped rising, didn't mean that his night had been over by any means.

Percy and Montoya had spent an additional six hours, running around the city. From looters, actual looters that time, to trapped civilians, to any number of odd crises. The sun had been well risen, by the time they were called in.

However, what was concerning and confusing, was that Montoya and Percy hadn't been called back into their precinct. But rather, to One-Police-Plaza. Percy initially assumed that maybe it had something to do with the fight with the clowns. Maybe they were about to go on suspension, pending an internal inquiry into whether their actions had been justified. That made the most sense to him, but it still didn't explain why they were being pulled all the way downtown for the inquiry.

The types of internal investigations were never discussed downtown, always in the precinct of the officer's in question. It sure as hell never happened in the office of the Commissioner.

It was odd, in the several years Percy had been with the Metropolis Police, he had met Commissioner Corporon only twice, and here was, seeing Commissioner Gordon for the umpteenth time in as many days.

It was Montoya's turn to yawn, not even bothering to cover her mouth as they stepped into the elevator that would take them to the higher levels.

"Don't do that shit," Percy said, covering his mouth with his coffee cup, "For the love of god, I need a nap."

"Sorry partner," Montoya said, her eyes dropping slightly, as she took an enormous pull from her own to-go cup. The two of them were on their fifth cups in as many hours.

It had been that kind of a shift.

"Hear about Drake?" Montoya asked, Percy arched a brow,

"No, what happened, he ok?" He asked. The man had been a bit keyed up during the fight, but Percy couldn't blame him for that. His first real combat had nearly frozen him in place. Granted he had been four at the time, but mortals couldn't be held to the same standard.

Montoya snorted, "He's fine. Shoulder is kind of fucked up I guess, but he'll recover. No, but he quit. Guess his dad is some kind of bigshot in the archeological world. He's taking over for his old man."

"Huh, good for him, I guess," Percy shrugged, he was far from surprised, the man had looked shell-shocked when he met up with Percy. Some people just weren't made for the fight he supposed.

The elevator slowed to a halt, and dinged, before the doors opened, and the pair stepped into the hall they had vacated in such a hurry the night before. Arriving in front of the door to the office, Montoya reached out a hand, and rapped hard on the wood paneling three times. There was an immediate response,

"Enter," Came Gordon's gravelly voice, sounding even more hoarse than the last time Percy had heard him. Opening the door, Montoya led the way into the office, Percy following, and shutting the door behind him.

Striding up to the desk, Percy took a stance beside Montoya, and waited, as Gordon finished typing something into the monitor on his desk. Looking up at the pair of them Gordon grimaced,

"You two look about as bad as I feel," He grumbled, "Sorry about that. Should have realized you'd been working the full shift, what with the mountain of bullshit that was last night." Percy almost snorted. As bad as he was sure they looked, Gordon didn't look like he was faring any better. His eyes had large, dark bags under them, and his right hand held a slight tremor, that told Percy he either hadn't had the time to smoke in a while, or was so hopped up on coffee that he was getting the jitters.

"Unfortunately," Gordon grimaced again, "The bullshit gets worse."

He turned his attention away from the monitor, and stared back at them,

"Romanji is dead." He said simply, skipping the preamble.

Percy's stomach fell out of his chest.

"What?" Demanded Montoya, the look on her face of abject horror, mirroring Percy's own creeping sense of dread. "How? When? What the hell happened? Was it the plants?"

Gordon shook his head. He looked older than he ever had to Percy. As though he'd aged another twenty years, in the last twenty hours. Percy supposed that was par for the course as a Police Commissioner. Doubly so when you were the Commissioner for a city like Gotham. Gordon removed his glasses and rubbed tiredly at his eyes.

"Found him in the holding cells this morning. He was shot three times. Twice in the stomach, once in the head. Professional hit. We think it happened during the attack, someone took advantage of the mayhem to put him down, before he could turn on Falcone."

"Wait a second," Percy said, shaking his head, "Why in the hell would Falcone just off him like that? He had no way of knowing Romanji was going to flip. The number of people that were privy to that information was small, and more importantly, Falcone had bailed Romanji out before, why not this time?" Percy trailed off, as Gordon looked at him sympathetically,

"Think about it Metro, from the get-go, it looked bad for Romanji. You said it yourself in the interview. Falcone's lawyer, this Carlos guy? He never showed up, which means that Falcone was cutting him loose." She scoffed bitterly, "As to nobody knowing about it?" She shook her head, looking disgusted, so Gordon took over,

"Welcome to Gotham son, half the damn department is on Falcone's payroll, and that's especially true for your precinct. I have my suspicions, in fact, that you and Montoya might be the only ones in the damn building, not on the bastard's dime. It's my thinking that one of uniforms working for Falcone came in during the chaos. Buried Romanji, and snuck back out. Would have been able to do it too, since all the electrical in the One-Seven went down cause of the attack. Turned all the camera's off too. Would have been easy. But, unfortunately, that ain't the worst of it."

Gordon pointed out the eastern window, anger clouding his expression. Percy followed the finger out the window, and froze again. Where the forensics lab had been, less than twenty-four hours ago, was little more than a pile of ash and rubble. The pit in Percy's stomach, became a ravine, as his mouth dropped open in abject shock and muted horror,

"No." He whispered, "No, no, no, do _not_ tell me that-"

"Gone." Gordon confirmed, "At least, we're assuming so. A damn plant came up, straight through the middle of the damned forensics lab. Parker's dead, so are two of his techs, and a third's in critical at Gotham General. Damn building fell right on top of them when that plant came up. We've got teams poking through the rubble right now, but we've lost…a lot."

Percy couldn't believe what he was seeing. He was in shock, in a matter of hours, all of the hard work, evidence, and leads, had been turned to dust. Sure, the man that had killed Silver St. Cloud was dead, but that was hardly a consolation, not with the one truly responsible for her and her family's deaths was still breathing free air. And then another terrible thought hit. How many others? How many other cases had been riding on the evidence in that building? How many bad guys were about to get away, all because of some piss poor luck?

He felt sick to his stomach, and he finally had to sit down in one of the empty chairs in front of Gordon's desk. Disbelief. Sadness. Despair. Those emotions were all waging inside of him. But something else was burning hotter, and ferociously than all the others.

Anger.

Hot. Righteous. Anger. Anger at the supers, for creating a world where shit like the night before happened with alarming regularity. Anger at the villains, for being so callous, so cruel, and so uncaring about the lives of others. For being so caught up in their war with the supers, that they didn't care how many innocents' lives were caught in the crossfire. Though for some, perhaps that was the whole point. But above all of that, Percy was angry with himself.

He'd been stubborn. He'd been prideful. If he had simply let the Bat have the damn bracelet, then they wouldn't be in this mess. Sure, they didn't know what was on the damn thing, but if Falcone wanted it bad enough to kill the St. Cloud family, then it was important.

And now it was gone.

Gone because Percy, regardless of how justified he was in his beliefs, had been too prideful, and too stubborn to hand over the bracelet. Now they would never know what was on it. And with Romanji dead, so was the case against Christian Falcone.

There was a strong hand on his shoulder, drawing Percy's attention. Looking up, he saw Montoya, looking determinedly at him.

"It's not your fault Percy," She said softly, once again using his name, to show how serious she was being.

"It is," he insisted, "If I had just-"

"Montoya's right son," Gordon cut in, "We can sit here and play 'what if' till we're blue in the face, but the fact remains that what's done is done. And nothing can be done about it. I stand by my decision and yours, not to hand over the drive. It was the right call, at that time. And it just means we'll have to find some other way to pin Falcone. Until then,"

Gordon sighed, then smiled, "You both did excellent work. I know the circumstances are…fuck it, terrible, but that is neither of your faults. The only people to blame are the villains, and Christian Falcone. You both did an extraordinary job, and exemplified what it means to be an officer of GCPD. For that, I thank you, and I will take personal care, to ensure that this case does not get reported falsely in your records. As far as I'm concerned, the matter of the murder of Silver St. Cloud, is a closed case. You did your job, and went above and beyond while doing so. I've forwarded a memo to your duty captain, you two have the rest of the day to yourselves. Consider it an apology, as well as a thank you from me. Take care of yourselves, and get back to work on Monday. I'm sure we're going to be busy."

With that, they were dismissed from the office. They were silent, as they waited for the elevator, both Percy and Montoya lost in their own thoughts, wallowing in the emptiness they were both feeling. They had closed the case, sure, but Silver St. Cloud did not get the justice she deserved. It felt hallow.

"So," Percy asked, stepping into the elevator, "What do we do now?"

"Now?" Montoya asked back, pressing the button for the lobby, "Now, we recharge."

"Then it's back to work,"

_**AN:**_** For anyone interested, those were real police codes and signals. Most states and departments use their own variation of the ten-code system, but I decided to keep it generic here. It was fun to put together! A little cameo for those who really know you comics. Nothing major, won't really amount to anything, but I had an opportunity for a fun moment, so I took some liberties with a character and changed part of their story if you can guess who it is. Now, I'm guessing some people might not love how this ended, truth be told, you shouldn't love it. You should be mad, because that's the reaction I want. Every story needs a bad guy, and Christian Falcone will be him. How will Percy get him? I know, but you'll have to wait to find out! But! Don't worry, because it'll make it that much sweeter when the bastard falls. Hope you enjoyed the ride so far, and now for another minor hiatus. This chapter marks the end of the pre-written chapters I had put together for One-Seven. Next up on my schedule is Our Protector. My Ole Faithful. So if you're a fan of that, expect the next arc to start being published before the end of the month. But fans of this, don't worry, it's going to come back! Thank you all for you continued love and support, it continues to amaze me how well my dumb little stories continue to do and I cannot express my gratitude enough to all of you who have been so loving and supportive. Thanks again, stay safe, and love you all. See you soon.**

**Love,**

**LilDB**


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